The New Order in the Castle
by civilwarrose
Summary: Life after the end of the movie, the lives and loves of all the characters post-transformation. Adam and Belle deal with a vengeful Enchantress, while romances bloom both in the castle and the village. Disney owns these characters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Preparations and Diplomacy

Things were only beginning to come into order for the grand wedding uniting young Belle DeFleur, a girl from a small village a few miles from the palace, and His Highness Prince Adam Vincente Christophe, the lost Prince of the highlands, now found after years of mystery. How this came to pass is an extraordinary story unto itself, and if you were to hear it, you wouldn't be apt to believe it. So instead, let us enter the castle and listen in on the proceedings.

"Why do I have to learn to read, Mr. Cogsworth?" A small seven year old boy was sulking on a large upholstered chair. He poked the chair with his finger to make sure it was not alive and apt to run across the room and playfully dump him to the floor. After all, he was used to that kind of behavior from an armchair, or a footstool for that matter. But this chair was inanimate, meaning that it was not Sophie the scullery maid, who'd transformed into a human just like everyone else.

"It's a new policy, young Chip." said Cogsworth. "All palace servant children are to get an education from now on. You will learn to read, and then go on to study history, science, politics and literature. It's what Belle wants, and she will be your Princess soon. Personally, I think it's a rather farfetched idea, and most impractical."

Mr. Cogsworth had, besides his old duties, the new responsibility of acting as tutor to the servant children, which numbered only two. Charles Potts, known as "Chip," was the youngest member of the palace staff, and the next youngest was Mirielle, who had been a serving spoon until just recently. She was now an eleven-year-old girl.

Chip himself was quite enjoying getting used to the idea of having fingers and limbs, considering the fact he had spent several years as a tiny china cup. He opened up the small book in his lap and proceeded to read out loud, while Mr. Cogsworth stood behind him and coached him on the phonetics of each word. After ten grueling minutes, Chip finished the book.

"You may be dismissed, now. Excellent job. Tomorrow we will read a slightly longer one. And you will need to study arithmetic as well." Cogsworth told him.

He hopped off the chair, ran out of the library, and into the hallway. Coming around the corner, he passed by Mirielle, who, like Belle, always had a book in her arms. She was going to be tutored by Cogsworth the next hour.

"Have fun at lessons," he called to the young servant girl, who enjoyed schooling much more than he did. He resumed running down the hall, and came to the banister of the stairs. He couldn't resist the urge to climb on the banister and slide down- _should he do it_, he mused. He gathered all his courage and climbed the golden banister. It was polished and slippery, and he swooped down as it curved and he found himself landing with a plop in the dining hall.

It was cheery and bustling, quite a change from what had existed before. The castle had undergone a great redecorating. The old Baroque style was replaced with modern furnishings. The heavy dark curtains were removed from the huge mullioned windows, and were replaced by either pastel or sheer white curtains or simply left bare, allowing the sun to shine in. Tables were bedecked with golden cloths, and Chip was hit with the delicious smells of snacks cooking.

"Hi, Mama!" he exclaimed. His mother, who was more the age to be his grandmother than his mother, greeted him with a plate of cookies. She was accompanied by her new friend Maurice, the father of the princess-to-be. They had just been in their usual daily habit of sharing tea and pleasant conversation.

"Here, have only a sample of the broken cookies, dear. The good ones are to be saved for the wedding!" She was beaming with excitement.

"Where's Belle, Mama?"

"She's getting a final fitting for her gown. She will spend time with you tonight, I am sure." Mrs. Potts replied. "But the tailor wants to redo part of the gown, and now it'll take more time."

Some of the villagers from Molyneux were happily donating their services for the wedding, much to Prince Adam's dislike. It was hard for him to trust outsiders from beyond the castle grounds, which was forgivable considering the former unpleasant events that had occurred.

Belle, in her usual diplomatic way, had convinced him to give some of the people from her hometown a chance, and that included inviting Madame Fortier to make her wedding dress, the town baker to make the main wedding cake, and some of the local children to bring hand-picked flowers for the decorations. She also insisted that they invite the entire village to the wedding; after all, the castle was enormous, and after hiding it all these years, why not share it with the general populace?

From what she had heard on her last brief visit to the village, it was buzzing with talk about the 'lost prince,' and rumors were flying. Of course, the death of Gaston was a big part of those rumors, and so she had no choice but to tell the baker's wife, who would no doubt tell everyone else, that the Beast was dead and gone. The townspeople did what they would with that information, and she was certain that it involved her deceased, mad suitor's elevation to near-god. However, Belle was too involved with her upcoming marriage to do much about it.

These issues involving the village, as well as wedding details, were the source of more than a few bickerings between Belle and Adam that Maurice and the servants had to listen in on for the last few days. Belle and her Prince were certainly madly in love, but they were from completely opposite worlds and viewpoints. They were equally passionate, yet equally stubborn.

Mrs. Potts looked up from the table and shot her young son a warning look. Echoes were being heard down the hallway, and the voices came clearer as they approached.

"It's Belle and the Master," she warned her boy, making a quick shushing gesture.

"Why does this have to take so long? I have the best royal tailors right here, and you insist on that woman to sew your dress for you? And _they_ are baking the cakes? We have a competent staff right here in this castle!" Adam was ranting. Although, his angry voice now was much less menacing than it used to be, considering he'd lost the animal growl which used to make everyone's teeth chatter (well, at least the teeth they could have had if one hadn't been a stuffed chair or a teacup.)

"Because Madame Fortier and Marie the baker's wife are really nice! They truly want to help!"

"And you want to invite that whole village to the wedding?"

"Why not?"

"Because, I just… I wanted a private affair. I … still like my privacy." Adam looked embarrassed.

Belle sidled up to him and gave him a reassuring hug. "Remember, you are the long lost prince. You cannot be a hermit and hide anymore. Everyone wants to see you, and get to know you. It's good… diplomacy."

Adam looked down gently at his lovely young fiancée with gentle blue eyes. He took a deep breath. "All right. I have to present a good image now, you are correct. And I guess… diplomacy… and being… bene…what's that word?"

"Benevolent."

"Yes, benevolent…it will be part of a new era for this place." He gazed around the dining hall of the palace, squinting in slight irritation at the brilliant sun coming in the windows. "I am still having trouble getting used to that blasted sunshine, though!" he said, shading his eyes and going into the smaller storage room where drinks were stored on a table, Belle following him. Chip, Mrs. Potts, and Maurice resumed their tea and cookies.

Adam casually picked up a bottle from the table, opened it, and took a sip. He made a disgusted face. "Confound it, that's horrible tasting!" he said. "This ale has been sitting in storage too long. It can't be served in the wedding! I am going to have to find a whole new store of beverages… Sophie!" Belle smiled in a patient, loving way, but rolled her eyes slightly. This was not turning out to be Adam's day.

Sophie, the scullery maid and general "go-to" girl, came quickly into the storage room at Adam's summons. A plump young woman with rosy cheeks and light blonde hair, she had been a stuffed upholstered chair during the enchantment. "Yes, your Grace?" she said, bowing obediently, if not perfectly reverently.

"I want you to go into the village and find a source of beverages and refreshments. We have absolutely nothing decent to drink, other than tea and milk." Adam asked of the maid. Sophie had been chosen for the job of going outside the castle on shopping and fetching duties, not only because she liked venturing out to the village, but also because she wasn't very efficient in the kitchen.

"I like tea and milk. What's wrong with serving just that?" she piped up, then quickly snapped her mouth shut at Adam's stern look. "I'm… sorry, I mean that yes, tea and milk aren't suitable at all for a wedding! You have to have proper beverages that are more festive, and well, celebratory!" she babbled, wringing her hands. It was all part of the servants' general 'testing' of Adam's new persona, seeing if it would match his old authority. Sophie, and a few others, like Lumiere, were the ones who were apt to push Adam's boundaries to the outer limits.

"I'll be right on it, Your Grace." Sophie finally said. "I'll go find Michel and have him get a horse ready for me. This is going to be such fun!" she said excitedly, striding out of the room.

Belle watched her go, then she made a horrified realization.

"Adam, dear?"

"Yes."

"I know Molyneux like the back of my hand, it's my home, but there's a little problem."

"What?"

"Well, it will be easy to find more delicious refreshments and foods, with Andre the baker, and the farmers, but well… alcoholic beverages were only found in the tavern. There was only one tavern…and…"

"What?" Adam looked at her quizzically. He didn't know that much about Molyneux, it was true.

"The man who owned that tavern… well… he's dead. He just died recently."

Belle winced. The unpleasant subject of Gaston was something that hadn't come up and was now becoming an issue with the wedding preparations. There was no other source of alcoholic beverages for the reception for miles and miles, and the only close establishment, which might or might not have had stock still available, had been owned by the man who'd tried to kill Adam.

"Oh… that's unfortunate." Adam said, perfectly oblivious. He'd never made the connection. "Well, in that case, I could try to convince Jean-Luc to prepare a _mild_ wine, although it wouldn't be much more than grape juice, and who knows, with all the gallivanting Sophie likes to do, she's liable to fetch something." He stepped closer to Belle and kissed her on the top of the forehead. "Let's go for a walk in the garden, love."

Belle breathed a sigh of relief, and went along.

They exited out the back door, into the enormous garden which was still covered with a dusting of early spring snow. The recent rains had washed away all of the winter snow, but a cold spell had dusted the castle grounds with a gentle, newer white coating. Belle and Adam breathed in the crisp cold air and could smell the hint of oncoming spring in the air. It had been cloudy, but the sun was just starting to appear. Belle enjoyed these walks and talks outdoors with Adam more than anything, even her reading.

They relished the chance to get away from the staff and get to know each other more. She especially liked the funny anecdotes Adam would recall about his childhood. He had been a little spoiled brat, to put it gently, and Belle was picturing this little sandy-blond haired, mischievous boy in her mind as he talked. She liked hearing about it because they shared a common bond in their childhoods- they had both lost a parent. Belle had lost her mother, but Adam had lost both parents very young. She wondered how different his life would have been, had that tragedy not occurred.

As they walked past the tall cedar trees, they heard a scuffling sound, and a giggle. Adam stepped forward and peeked into the trees.

"It looks as if you two wanted some privacy as well!" he chided, mirthfully rather than angrily. A sheepish Lumiere, followed by a blushing, giggling Babette, tumbled out of the cedars. The couple grinned, brushing dusty snow off their clothes. Lumiere straightened his posture. "Have a pleasant walk today, Your Grace."

"Likewise." Adam replied. He and Belle left them behind, walking arm and arm down the path. From across the grounds, children's laughter could be heard. Belle looked over. It was Chip and Mirielle, trying to climb a large evergreen tree. A little farther, they saw Sophie, bundled up in a shawl and bonnet, waving to them. Belle could see that she'd been supplied a strong horse, Antoinette, who was the same breed of horse as Phillipe, and a wagon by the stable boy. She began driving the cart down to the opposite side of the valley, in the direction of the village.

"And now, we are finally alone," Adam said, smiling and looking at Belle lovingly.

"Yes, we are. Finally," she laughed. "Come on, let me show you where I saw some most amazing little birds. I've been reading on all the bird species, and have been studying them. They are all migrating home for the spring."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Chilly Hands and Child's Play

As Belle and Adam wandered off to explore the castle grounds, Lumiere and Babette continued to take their own walk, back to the castle's side entrance. They had to get back inside soon, since they had more cleaning and arranging to do, and there was no more magic to move things along anymore. The double-edged sword of being mortal humans again came at the cost of having to go back to good old-fashioned elbow grease.

But Lumiere wanted to enjoy the afternoon, even if it was for just five more minutes. As he and Babette strolled back to the area near the cedar trees, there was a cooler spot where the snow had accumulated. He plopped back down in the snow, took off his gloves and plunged his hands in, trying to make a snowball. It wasn't the kind of snow akin for making snowballs, however, so it just sifted through his hands. He continued to dig his bare hands in the snow in sheer delight.

"What on earth are you doing, _mon cherie_?" Babette asked, a little puzzled.

"Oh, this is wonderful! My hands are cold! They're _cold_, Babette! Don't you see? I haven't been able to do this for ages!" He jumped up, ran over to Babette, and put his icy hands on her cheeks.

"Brrrrrrr! Stop it, Lumiere!" Babette scolded. Her playful boyfriend finally took his hands off her cheeks, which were rosy red, and gave her another embrace.

Babette realized that this could be the chance. She wanted to talk to him about the future of their relationship. They had been playing this game for long enough. He'd been a playboy when they were human before, but in all these years as enchanted objects, they had spent all their time together and become bonded. She wanted to be considered as more than just a feathery plaything. She wanted, with all her heart and soul, to become his wife.

"Dear," she started, "I really care a lot about you. You make me smile, you make me laugh, and… I really want to know where this is going."

"Right now, we are going to the great hall! Where we can wield our mops and brooms and imagine that they can still dance along the ballroom floor, making it sparkling clean in their wake! And I'd like nothing better to be making the best of that lowly duty with you, my sweet!"

Babette sighed. She decided that this wasn't the appropriate time to have a talk. They had already approached the stairs. She decided to go with physical signals rather than verbal, anyway, putting her arm back in his and snuggling into him as they went up the stairs and back through the immense castle door, which had two elaborate stone carvings of cherubs above it, one on each side. _L'amour, why can't it just be simple?_ Babette thought to herself. It would take some time.

Chip and Mirielle were still outside. Chip was still playing around the trees, Mirielle was sitting farther away.

"I'm going to climb that one!" Chip exclaimed. He indicated the tallest evergreen tree, which was growing to the side of the lowest castle turret and its tops brushed the sides of it, its highest branches brushing against a window.

"No, you shouldn't do that, Chip! It's too dangerous!" Mirielle shouted. She hadn't been looking at the younger child, after trying to climb the smaller trees with him, she decided to sit down and read a book she had stuffed in her cloak. So while she was reading, Chip had wandered farther off.

Chip began to climb. He wanted to know what it felt like to be _big_. So big that he could look down on people below him and have _them_ look like they were the size of dishware. He scurried up about seven or eight feet, reached a point where the closest stable branch was just beyond his reach, and so he had to stretch up to reach it. He stretched his arm high, and got up on his tiptoes for a further reach.

But the branch was wet, and thus slippery. His booted foot slid, and he lost all balance and fell to the ground with a horrific thump. Mirielle screamed.

"_Chip_!" The girl, who was four years older than Chip and who felt responsible for watching over the little boy, rushed over to him and started to cry. "Are you all right? Please, tell me that you are all right!" He had landed flat on his back. His eyes were wide open in shock, and then pain registered and he started to howl.

Mirielle was in panic. She wanted to stay with him, but she had to go seek help. She looked up in the castle windows. Surely someone could be inside looking out. Maybe they would see them and notice that there had been a horrible accident.

She attempted for a few minutes to calm him down. "Where does it hurt the most?"

"My back! Owwww!"

"Can you move at all?" She was trying her best to keep her composure. She wished Belle and Adam could come back soon. Or anyone for that matter. Anyone who was a responsible adult, not her. She had to acquire help, and soon.

Suddenly, from the corner of Mirielle's eye, a light glowed in the trees. She squinted as one of the smaller trees actually started to glow white-hot before her eyes! The tree changed its form and became just a circle of light, changing its shape.

Mirielle was frightened but hopeful. An angel, perhaps! Here to help Chip! She stood up and watched as the circle of light twisted itself into a human form. Before her eyes, and Chip's, who in his pain had tried to sit up and watch this spectacle, the glowing form turned into a woman.

"Are you an angel?" Chip breathed. He had been wondering the same thing that Mirielle had. She was glad that she hadn't been just seeing things.

The woman was resplendently dressed in a green gown. Her hair was long and golden blonde, and she was beautiful, although it was a different sort of beauty than Belle's. It was otherworldly, cold, and somber. She slowly walked toward the spot under the tree where Mirielle stood over Chip. Her eyes were misty grey, and the expression on her face was not loving, but icy and stern.

"You!" she pointed at Mirielle. "Foolish, irresponsible girl!" The woman reached into the fold of her green brocade gown, and pulled out an ancient-looking, fourteen-inch long wooden wand, inscribed with serpents. She pointed at the young girl threateningly.

The guilt that Mirielle felt about not keeping a close eye on her little friend rose up like a stone in her heart.

"NO!" the eleven year old girl sobbed. "I didn't mean to cause this to happen! We were both having a good time! I tried to stop him…"

"It's not her fault!" Chip was still trying to sit up. "Really, I am going to be okay!"

"You are too lost into your storybooks to be of any help to your friends! All you do is daydream!" the Enchantress scolded.

"Please, no! I want to help him! He's hurt! Can't you just _help_ us?" Mirielle sobbed. She felt horrible remorse. The Enchantress had truly found a fault in Mirielle. The truth was that she really didn't _want_ to spend all day babysitting the active little boy. She liked being with him, but only to a point. She wanted to go back to the library and read and study. It was almost as if this sorceress could read her mind. She could see into her soul, and picked out a flaw in her character.

"You have _no love _in your heart!"

She raised her wand.

"_Please, no- DON'T!"_

The children screamed in terror.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Confrontation

"STOP! GET AWAY FROM THEM!"

A loud, booming voice called out several yards away. The Enchantress turned to the source, holding her wand pointed in the children's direction. The horrified Mirielle and Chip gaped in surprise.

Adam, his otherwise handsome face contorted in rage, strode forward. A shocked Belle followed close behind him.

The Enchantress sneered. "Why, it's my Beast! You seemed to have cleaned up well, I am rather proud of you," she said in a mockingly sweet, singsong tone.

Adam was furious. "You have NO RIGHT to be here. Now I see what you are doing! This is nothing but a game for you! You use your vile witchcraft to prey upon _children_! Children who are old enough to know right from wrong, but not mature enough to make the right choices! It was bad enough to curse _me_ into a Beast, but you turned these two-" gesturing to Mirelle and Chip-"into objects for _no fault_ of their own, taking years from their childhoods! How old are you, Mirielle?"

"Almost twelve," she squeaked, huddled on the ground and shaking in fright. Chip was sitting up, putting his hand on her shoulder in comfort. He had not broken any bones. He'd been wearing a new fur coat, and the plushness of it had cushioned his seven-foot fall. He looked at the Enchantress wide-eyed. So it was her! He had never seen her before, but now he realized that she was the one responsible for the ten years of enchantment.

"She's a selfish little girl!" the Enchantress accused. "She thinks that she's smarter than everyone else on your staff. You're nothing but a servant, little girl, and you always will be!" She twirled the wand in her hand, as if trying to decide whether to turn her back into a spoon, or possibly, an earthworm.

"GET AWAY!" Adam boomed. He rushed to the Enchantress and snatched her wand arm in his hands. He tried to wrestle the wand from her, but she was a physically strong woman, as well as having the advantage of being magical. The wand shot out a fiery spark, and it burned Adam's hand. He roared in pain. He was accustomed to having the size and strength of the Beast. At this moment, he wished he was _still_ the Beast.

Belle was thinking the same thing as she witnessed this entire affair. In the back of her mind, she'd always wondered if the sorceress would be back. She thought that she'd be angry that the curse was broken, and he'd succeeded. She was also just as furious as Adam was. Adam had described himself as a spoiled brat when he was younger, but the fact was he still was just a _child_ at the time of the Enchantress' curse, a mere eleven. And furthermore, he had been an orphan, with no parents to guide him into developing good character and servants to coddle him. Adam had always blamed himself for refusing the old woman shelter that night because of her homely looks. But Belle realized that the true culprit was the green-gowned, icy beauty standing before them now. She wanted to fight her too, but she realized that that would not be a wise choice. She could only witness this spectacle in indignant horror.

Adam's hand bore a nasty red burn, and he was thrown backwards to the ground. He struggled back up and continued to charge at her, and she retaliated, shooting hot sparks at him that singed his coat. Adam never thought he would have to physically fight a woman, but she was no ordinary lady. He so wished he had his ornamental sword with him, or perhaps not, because he would have beheaded her for certain. Instead, he shot a pleading look at Belle.

Belle decided to run to summon the palace guards. The incompetent men were never there when they were needed. That eventful night, four weeks before, when the guards weren't men, but rather hopping, sentient swords and muskets, they had been absent when the Molyneux townspeople had stormed the castle looking for the Beast. They had been deep in the forest, hunting animals as always. Although, Belle reasoned, it was fortunate that they were. That night, only one villager, Gaston, had been killed- and it was of his own doing. Belle wouldn't have wanted any Molyneux citizen's blood on the hands of the castle staff. However, they were in dire need at this moment.

Belle ran as fast as she could to the stables. If she couldn't find the four guards, or even Michel the stable boy, she could at _least_ saddle Philippe. Maybe she could trample her with her own horse.

Adam and the Enchantress continued to grapple over her wand. Chip and Mirielle were rooted to their spot under the evergreen tree.

A sound of howling and barking came from the forest beyond the castle grounds. In an instant, three enormous wolves rushed toward the spot where Adam and the Enchantress stood. Adam fell to the ground, and felt renewed terror as the beautiful but terrifying wolves approached him, their teeth bared. He had had his fair share of experience with wolves. But this time, he felt small and vulnerable without his Beast-form to conquer them.

The animals rushed right past Adam, however, and made a beeline toward the Enchantress. She screamed in horror as they pounced on her and knocked her to the ground. She shielded herself and tried to aim her wand at the wolves as they tore at her exquisite green dress. One second later, there was a flash of white light, and only the three wolves remained, pawing at the snow-dusted ground. One of them had a scrap of green fabric in its teeth. The Enchantress had disappeared.

Adam got up and rushed to Mirielle and Chip, hugging them.

"Are you all right, Prince Adam?" Chip asked.

"Just a burned hand and some wounded pride," he replied. He helped Chip stand, and they began to walk toward the castle entrance. Belle arrived a minute later, galloping Phillipe. She stopped when she saw the three of them.

"It's over, Belle. She is gone. Disappeared."

"What…"

"Wolves, Belle! Beautiful, glorious wolves! They attacked her from nowhere, and the cowardly witch decided to go back to her stinking hellhole, wherever that may be."

"Wolves…" Belle smiled. Wolves had been the catalyst for the beginning of their relationship that past autumn, when she had been held prisoner by Adam in the form of the Beast. Their past encounter with wolves was terrifying, and Adam had been injured, but if it had not been for that event, things might not have evolved the way they did. Belle and Adam might never had known their love.

And now, wolves had played their part in their fate once more. Belle had wished she'd seen the animals, but they had bounded back into the forest as fast as they had arrived.

Everyone was safely resting in the castle early that evening. Adam's injured hand was tended to by Cogsworth and the chef, who had a steady supply of salves and bandages. Chip was snug in bed, with Mrs. Potts keeping vigil over him. It was fortunate that she had been busy in the kitchen at the time of his accident and had not seen him fall from the tree, as she would have been a nervous wreck. It was much better that Chip softened the blow by relaying the story firsthand. He couldn't stop himself from retelling the tale of Adam fighting an Enchantress, who was foiled by a trio of wolves.

Mirielle and Belle were relaxing in the grand library, near a roaring fire.

"Belle, people say that I am smart, but I still have so much to learn. I wish I hadn't been so foolish not to keep a good eye on Chip. And I'm always such a know-it-all. Do you think the witch was right about me?" Mirielle mused to Belle.

"No, Mirielle. Everything she said about you was a lie. That was her game. Remember what she did to Adam when he was your age? She's cunning and full of nasty tricks. We will have to keep ware of her still, however. Who knows when she could be back."

"I'd never felt so frightened in my life. I am so grateful for the wolves, though. It… it was _just like_ Jean de la Fontaine's version of _The Wolf and the Lamb_! I was reading it last week, and I felt so much like the lamb! Except … _she_ was symbolic of the wolf, and the real wolves were our heroes!" Mireille exclaimed.

"Mirielle, you are learning to be wise. It takes time to grow up. You might have the brain, but maturity is something you cannot get from a book. You have a sweet and loving heart, though. I am very proud of you." Belle reached over and touched the girl's hand. "I think it's time for you to get some rest."

"All right. But can I choose a book to take to bed?"

"Of course you can, Mirielle." The two young ladies left the library and parted ways, Mirielle heading upstairs to bed, and Belle into the main kitchen, where most of the staff was congregating over tea and dessert.

The large side table was loaded up with crates and baskets, filled to the rim with foods, drinks, and other such fineries for storage until the wedding celebration. Sophie had returned from Molyneux in the horse-drawn cart that evening, just as it was getting dark. Cogsworth, Lumiere, and Mrs. Potts, as well as Marcel and the cook, Thierry, had just finished helping Sophie unload all of the baskets into the castle.

"Did I deliver or what?" Sophie grinned, picking up a cookie. "Um…did I miss anything when I was gone?" Her expression changed from smug delight to concern when she saw Belle's tired, worn face when the latter walked into the small dining area and plopped down on a chair. Mrs. Potts rushed to her with a cup of tea.

"Oh, it was nothing, Sophie." Belle replied. "I'm not sure I want to go into it. Not tonight at least." She sipped the tea and rested her head on the table. "I am sorry, but I must retire. Good night, everyone." Belle took her teacup and headed out, going upstairs to her beautiful bedroom in the east wing, far opposite Adam's quarters in the west wing.

After Belle had left, Cogsworth spoke to Sophie. "You certainly didn't miss a thing. Except, well… Chip had an accidental fall, Mirielle was nearly cursed by a sorceress, and Adam started to fight her off. Until the nasty witch was defeated by a group of wolves. Other than that, nothing happened today."

Sophie gasped, and she dropped the cookie she was just about to dunk in her teacup, putting her hand to her bosom.

Outside the castle that night, beyond the grounds, the three wolves meandered through the forest. When they reached a clearing, a blue glow shone around them, illuminating the snowy ground and trees with an eerie light. The wolves' forms changed into that of three men. They were all dressed in fine, pale blue velvet jackets and breeches, with black tricorn hats on their heads. One of the men was middle aged and dignified, the other two were handsome and young.

"Good work, my sons," the older of the men said to the younger two. "We were lucky to find Delphine this time. We never know when or where she will resurface. We must stay here, and stand guard in the area of the mortal Prince's castle. Someday, we will capture her for good. Delphine cannot continue to terrorize Prince Adam and his household after all he has been through! And she must be stopped from cursing mortals in such a way ever again."

"Yes, Father," one of the sons replied. The three sorcerers took out their wands and conjured up a campfire for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- All's Well, and Ale's Well

The next morning was two days before the wedding. Things were beginning to wind down as far as the preparations, and Belle was forced by Mrs. Potts to relax from now on, especially after the previous day's frightful event. She was able to spend most of the morning relaxing and reading her favorite book, a collection of Shakespeare, which she relied on to soothe her wedding jitters.

_In two days, Adam will be my husband. My_ _husband!_ The word was hard to wrap her mind around. It sounded so grown-up, so adult. Adam was going to be more than just a sweetheart, good friend or childlike playmate from now on. It was quite sobering.

Adam spent that morning pacing and pacing around the castle. He circled the ballroom, then went upstairs to his area in the west wing, changed his outfit twice, ran back downstairs, went outside to 'check on the weather,' which had turned sunny and warm, melting all of the snow for good. On his second trip to pace around the ballroom he was finally cornered by Lumiere, who urged him to come to the kitchen and taste-test the refreshments that had been purchased by Sophie during her visit to Molyneux the previous afternoon.

He followed Lumiere into the storage area of the kitchen, where he found Belle, Sophie, and Mrs. Potts. They were trying the baguettes made by Andre, the baker of Molyneux, and his wife, Marie. Belle had especially missed those simple treats, and was happy to relish them again.

When Sophie saw Adam, she jumped up and rushed to the table, grabbing a crate filled with small bottles of honey-brown-coloured liquor. "Prince Adam! You have _got_ to try this!" she said excitedly. Adam rolled his eyes and, shrugging, uncorked a bottle and took a taste. His eyes widened in astonishment. "This is absolutely delicious! I can't believe it! You purchased it from those _villagers_?"

"Of course I did! I was passing through the market square, and this _darling_ young man had set up a booth for his ale that he was brewing. I told him that I was willing to purchase the whole lot, we needed it for a grand VIP affair, and he was willing to let me take his whole stock for half-price!"

Belle, out of curiosity, went over to the table and picked up one of the little bottles. "Really? I wonder who could be making this?" She wasn't keen on alcoholic beverages of course, she'd never tried anything of the sort, except for the one time Lumiere served her a weak wine that made her feel woozy. She wasn't actually going to taste any ales.

Belle held the bottle up to her eyes, and read the little handwritten tag that was attached to the bottle with a string_. "Home-brewed and bottled by Ignatius Lefou." _

"Lefou?" Belle made a face that, if photography had been around at the time, would have captured her in a very un-Princesslike manner, with her tounge sticking slightly out of her teeth.

"He's a genius!" exclaimed Adam. Belle twisted her facial expression even more. The words "Lefou" and "genius" didn't even belong on the same page, if not the same library.

"Sophie! You must tell this Lefou fellow to supply even more ale by tomorrow. This won't be enough! Extraordinary…" he downed the entire bottle. "And get some more baguettes and petit-fours if you can. This is not enough! I want to give a good impression as a..." His voice trailed off when he looked at Belle. "Dear, why are you making that face?"

Belle sobered up and fixed her expression to a neutral one. "Oh, it's… nothing, Adam. Yes, we will need more of these things, Sophie. And Thierry will have to cook those chickens today before they go bad." At this, Adam came up and kissed the top of her head.

"Now, _that_ sounds like my princess. You get those servants in line." He was grinning. Belle laughed. When Adam was in his rare cheerful mode, she felt on top of the world. Now if she can only help him stay that way for the next three days. Even if one of the things that cheered him up was also something that reminded her of Gaston. But of course, she wasn't about to tell him that. _Better let bygones be bygones_, she mused.

Lumiere left the kitchen and found Babette dusting the plush sitting room.

"You dusted that yesterday, _cherie_!" he told her, capturing her in a hug and whirling her about in a dance. The floor was quite slippery from being clean, and Babette lost her balance and started to fall. Lumiere caught her and held her close.

"I know, but cleaning is my life, you know!" she said, releasing their grip. Lumiere noticed that her manner seemed a little cross. "Don't be so nervous, my pet. You are behaving just like the Master. We are all excited about the wedding. After all this time! Come, let's walk in the sunshine. Spring is here, and spring is the season of love!"

They walked out the door and into the late-morning sunshine. It was true; it was much warmer than it had been the day before, that frightful day when the cunning Enchantress had paid a most unwelcome visit. Babette took off her cloak and left it on the staircase. They walked for some time, not saying anything. Babette was still wondering what she could say to Lumiere when she could spare a moment alone with him. Now, she was ruining her chance. Finally, she decided on an opening remark.

"I am so happy for the Master and Mistress Belle. Marriage… it is a beautiful thing. Isn't marriage a good thing?"

"Yes it is! I have never seen him so happy in all these years! He has been through so much pain in his life, and now he will have his happily-ever-after. And when he is happy, I am happy too. It means I will no longer have to walk on eggshells and get in trouble with him anymore. At least, not quite as much," he added.

_There he goes again_, thought Babette, taking a thought and applying it only to the life of Adam, never thinking of himself. "No, not quite as much." She laughed a little. "What about us? Are you happy with _us_?"

"What kind of a silly question is that, darling? Of course I am happy. I just said I was a moment ago! And I am happy with us, with _you; _you are my best girl, and my _only _girl for such a long time now." He rubbed his knuckles on her head.

"Will I always be your only girl?" she said, looking him straight into his grey-blue eyes.

"Always," he replied. He leaned in for a quick kiss. Babette returned it with loving sincerity. _It seems to be a step up_, she thought.

Out of the corner of Lumiere's eye, he spotted three figures on horses riding through the woods at the edge of the castle grounds. _Strangers_! He broke the embrace with Babette, and approached them. "Can I be of your assistance?" he called out amiably.

The three men could only be royals, Lumiere surmised, because of the fashion of their dress. Their pale blue uniforms and smart tricorn hats conveyed aristocracy. One of them dismounted his horse and stepped forward. It was the sorcerer, Fabien LaBarre, who was on a secret assignment with his sons Bastien and Benoit.

"We were sent by His Majesty the King to guard Prince Adam. We hear he is to be married in two days." Actually, it was only part of the truth. The top echelion of sorcerers had actually sent them, in their pursuit of Delphine and other troublemakers in the magical community. But they did not want to relay details of that to these two. Fabien took his wand out of his pocket and did a quick magic-identification scan on the two people before him. He was to suspect anyone, no matter how innocent-looking, to be the Enchantress Delphine in disguise. The scan turned out negative. They were mortals.

"_Merci_, my friend. I am grateful for the protection."

"May we escort you to where you are going?" Fabien politely asked.

"No, that will not be necessary. The lady and I are servants, and we must get back to our domestic duties."

"Very well, then. Good day."

"Good day." Lumiere and Babette walked back to the castle, passing horse stables. Michel was hitching a cart up to one of the horses. Sophie was waiting for him. "Babette, you ought to go up to see Belle!" she called out. "She was just trying her dress on in her room in the East Wing, and she looks so beautiful! You must see her before she takes it off!"

Babette began to head up to the third floor of the East Wing. The place was quiet. Chip and Mirielle were in the library having a study time with Cogsworth, so no children's laughter or the frolicking of the palace dog could be heard in this wing. Children and dogs were Belle's love, not Adam's, so the East Wing was the only place where such frivolity had been allowed. Finally, after three flights of stairs, a slightly winded Babette found Belle in her room.

She was still wearing her wedding gown. It was very simple, of a white satin with a full skirt that was flowing rather than the voluminous crinolined bell that aristocratic ladies in fashion usually wore. It had long, loose sleeves, and sweetheart neckline with a tiny, pale blue ribbon bow at the bodice. Belle was also wearing the locket that Adam had given her. She was truly a vision of beauty. Babette sighed.

"You look wonderful, Belle. The most lovely bride in all of France," she told her.

"Thank you so much, Babette," Belle replied. She was blushing, and was more than a little fidgety and nervous. Her father, Maurice, was sitting in the room with her. He had tears in his eyes.

Things were finally getting into order for the big day in the castle.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- What's Brewing in Molyneux?

Sophie Ouilette was not apt to think much anymore about that strange night in which she, Adam, and all the others transformed back into their human selves. It was now a month since it had happened, and it was more like a surreal dream to her. The entire time her castle home was enchanted was now looked back on as an odd memory, but no longer reality. Her fellow servants often felt the same phenomenon.

So around noon, after she went back to the stable and asked young Michel to get a freshly rested mare and hitch her to the wagon yet again, she was surprised when Belle ran out to her and wanted to talk with her on a serious note about that particular night.

Belle had a reason for concern. Sophie was naïve, being graciously friendly but overly chatty. Ten years as a chair had something to do with it, but before that, she had lived in the castle under Adam and his parents since childhood and was unused to the ways of the outside world.

She had been very useful during the last week, acting as a bridge of goodwill between Adam's castle and the village of Molyneux. Belle had told her to be careful with what was said and what information she relayed about Adam, the Beast, (or rather what _became_ of the Beast) and the castle itself. One thing Belle cautioned her was to only tell unfamiliar people- anyone who was not Andre the baker, his wife Marie, Madame Fortier the tailor or Monsieur Libre, the bookseller- who were all formerly introduced to Sophie by Madame de la Grande Bouche when they went to the village together- that she was purchasing things for a 'grand VIP affair for important citizens.' "Just don't elaborate," Belle had told her.

Sophie had taken care to be purposely covert, and had done surprisingly well. She had never quite learned the reasons why, although, she gathered that it very likely had something to do with _that night_- and the aggressive way a mob of men from the village had stormed the castle. She had been a little nervous about having to fight them, she remembered. But she'd had great fun doing her part when some burly man had tried to sit on her, and she jumped up and threw him off, sending him screeching like a little girl. It was the highlight of the evening, at least until the glorious transformation that occurred later.

Belle had changed out of her wedding gown and into her green daytime dress when she came running out to meet Sophie on the path down to the valley. She looked anxious.

"Sophie, there are some things I need to tell you before you go down to talk to the villagers again. It's about how some of them feel about the castle- about us. And it's for Adam's safety." She was thinking about the fact that Adam had drunk a bottle of ale that had been made by none other than the late Gaston's closest toady. That had been three hours ago, and Adam was perfectly fine, so she wasn't worried anymore. Yet there was still the matter of what all of those men from the village believed.

"Really? What kind of things?"

"Do you remember the night a group of men came to attack the castle?"

"Why, yes! It was like a strange dream, but of course I remember."

"The men were there to help kill Adam, when he was the Beast. They were all led to believe he was a monster, of course. The leader of the mob was a very cruel man, named Gaston. He actually did kill the Beast, in a way. He stabbed Adam- before he fell off the tower and was killed- and Adam lay dying. I ran to him, and fell down over him. I was crying, of course," Belle's eyes misted at the memory- "and because of the fact I loved him, the curse was broken, and Adam became his true self, and… you know the rest."

Sophie smiled. "Yes, I know the rest. So what you are saying is, some of the men who live in the village think this castle is still a horror, and that man- this Gaston person- was a hero to them because they believe he truly killed the Beast?"

"Exactly." Belle replied. It had been hard for her and Adam to describe the events to the former objects-turned-servants, but they understood and accepted it. They had all been sorry to hear that a village man had died on the castle grounds, and some were a little worried about retribution.

"Come to think of it, Belle, that name sounds familiar. I think I heard it mentioned several times down there yesterday." Sophie recalled.

"I am sure you did," Belle said, rather sarcastically. "Well, I will let you be on your way. Just remember- let them believe what they _want_ to believe, and if they ask about our wedding, be gracious and tell them they are all invited. If they ask if the castle is safe, tell them yes. If they ask what became of the Beast, tell them he is gone. Nothing else!"

"Okay!" Sophie agreed. "Let's go, Antoinette!" she commanded the horse, slapping the reins.

She drove the wagon downhill, through a valley, then through a wooded area that was peaceful and serene. She loved the freedom that these wagon trips gave her. It was like a little taste of what it would be like to be someone other than a royal palace servant. And she especially loved the job of going to the village to buy goods. She envied what seemed to be carefree lives they lived, going out and about as they pleased, having their own private cottage homes and their own families.

After about a half-hour (downhill to Molyneux was much faster than uphill from it) she arrived in the village. The first stop was the bakery, and Marie Desjardins was there as usual. They had gotten well acquainted. Marie was similar-looking to Sophie, but twenty years older, and they shared the same sweet, kind disposition. Andre Desjardins, her husband, was a jovial man with a loud, booming laugh and a tendency to tell silly, off-color pun-jokes related to bread dough and buns. The couple had a fun, flirty way with each other, reminding Sophie of Lumiere and Babette, if they were to someday marry, of course.

"Bonjour, Marie!"

"Bonjour, Sophie! Back again so soon?"

"The Prince needs even more, I am afraid! 'This is hardly enough,' he said!" Sophie told her, imitating Adam's lofty and stern disposition.

"You will have a much bigger turnout then expected! I know the men are still wary of that place, but as much as Andre and I tell them the castle is safe, many of the men here are still shuddering in their boots!" Marie chuckled. "Andre and a few of his friends are going mostly for the free food, besides the fact we are helping with the cakes. He's still not too thrilled with the wedding itself because he thinks the bride should have married Gaston instead..."

As Marie chatted on, Sophie smiled politely at the mention of that name. She also had firsthand knowledge of why the men were shuddering in their boots about the castle, the other reason she was trying hard not to giggle a little. As a heart-shaped pink chair just a month ago, she and the other objects had cheered as a mob of terrified men ran scrambling down the main staircase.

..."You will have almost every female in town coming. I know those silly Beaudette sisters are trying hard to get over their grief over Gaston." (_The_ _second mention, _Sophie thought-) "They are excited to go and hopefully meet some 'dreamy aristocrats!' Anyway, we stayed up late last night and made up some more smaller cakes. The big cake is already done and delivered, since you picked that up the other day. Just make sure that your cook keeps it in a cool place. And I made four dozen more baguettes. I set them all aside, and am glad I did."

"Thank you so much!" said Sophie. She gathered all of the bakery items into two large baskets. "I must be going on. The Prince still wants me to pick up more drinks. I noticed no one has booths in the market square today. Could you tell me where the ale maker works? I purchased from him yesterday, as well."

"Oh, that would be the tavern by the square, right at the fountain," said Marie. She shook her head, sadly. "That's Lefou. Poor boy." She sighed. "He's still taking his best friend's death pretty hard. He took over ownership of that tavern, because Gaston- that was his friend, you know- the 'big hero,' had no family to leave it to. At least he's gone on with life, starting an ale-making business. Hardest working fellow in town, now. It's amazing what grief does to some people. It makes them better in the long run."

Sophie nodded, empathetically. She recalled that the small man had seemed a little glum yesterday, and she'd cheered him up a bit in the few minutes she'd talked to him. He'd been sweet to offer a supply for half price. But now she remembered Belle's words, and that she had to watch what she said around the ale maker.

She quickly found the fountain, and approached the tavern. The door was half open. She knocked, but no one answered. So, thinking she had to get moving on the errand and not wait around, she tiptoed in. She was nearly bowled over by the sight of the furnishings in the room.

There were animal heads everywhere, with large elk and deer antlers hanging from nearly every spot on the wall. It unnerved her. The smell of sweet liquors engulfed her senses. Over the fireplace in the center of the room, a huge painting loomed. The man in the portrait was tall, burly, and quite intimidating-looking. Flowers, mostly red roses, were strewn over the mantelpiece and the floor, held in vases and beer steins beneath the portrait. It looked to be some sort of a shrine.

She heard bottles clinking in the adjoining room, and, apparently, someone singing. Whoever it was, he was good, with a pleasing tenor-baritone range. Sophie knew a good singer when she heard one. Lumiere was great, and she herself couldn't carry a tune. Then she heard a thump, a crash of glass, and the singer stopped and muttered, "Ah, nuts!" Sounds of clinking bottles resumed, and the man went back to humming the tune he was singing.

The door popped open, and the short, pudgy man, his thick fringe of dark hair a little messy, came into the main room, briskly carrying a crate of bottles. It was most definitely Lefou, the same man she'd bought the drinks from previously. She knew she was in the right place, then. He had his back turned and didn't see her yet, and looked quite busy and preoccupied, putting bottles on the bar counter. He stopped a moment, and stepped toward the picture, looking up at it. He held one of the bottles up to the portrait in a salute, hanging his head down. Regaining his composure, he looked up at it again.

"It's springtime now, y' know that? Time for the geese to come back. I'd shoot one for you, but I never could aim at all. You know that. Much less bag 'em." He sighed, still holding aloft the bottle. "Here's to you."

Sophie watched from behind, silently, as he continued to talk to the portrait for a few minutes. Awkwardly, she stepped backwards toward the door, to make it appear that she'd just come in. Her shoes made a noise, though, and Lefou finally turned around, with a startled, deer-in-the-torches look on his face.

"I'm… sorry. Excuse me, I didn't mean to sneak in on you," she said softly.

He was immediately disarmed, and relaxed a little. "That's okay. It's you- the girl from yesterday who bought all my ale. Did you need more?"

"Um, yes, I do. My boss tasted your ale, and he loves it! He said you're a genius." She smiled.

"What? You're kidding me." He swept back a lock of dark hair from his eyes, awkwardly.

"Seriously! He did! So I need to purchase some more. Do you have two more crates?"

"Well… I have one, and… I just might have another. I would have had more, but I messed up a batch. A kettle exploded." He held up one hand, apparently burned and bandaged. "I'm fine, though," he said, chuckling. Sophie laughed too, since she knew how clumsy _she_ tended to be.

"You can take what I was gonna serve to the guys tonight, I guess. They'll have plain old beer, they don't care." Boxing up a few dozen bottles, he kept glancing up at the portrait.

Sophie felt a pang of sympathy. "You miss your friend, don't you? I'm sorry."

"Yeah, Gaston was a swell guy. This place will never be the same. He died trying to kill a Beast, you know that? It was at that creepy castle. Scariest place I've ever seen," he said in a half-whisper.

Sophie widened her eyes in panic. Her mouth was starting to open, on automatic pilot, in order to say, _'That castle isn't scary! It's my home! The only home I've ever known!'_ but she quickly shut it up. _Remember what Belle said. _

Yet, on the other hand, another side of her wanted to tell the truth, and quell the rumors about Adam and the castle for good. She wanted to come out clean about the fact she was indeed getting things for Adam and Belle's wedding, and if anyone had qualms about it, then she'll take her business elsewhere. It was obvious that this was the very place where the ringleader of the plot to kill Adam in his beast-form was still revered, and well, enshrined. The man in the portrait didn't really impress her that much anyway. He was a little too big and hairy for her taste.

Regardless of what she thought of the dead man, she was in a bit of a quandary. She felt fond of the small man, with his nervous yet charmingly honest demeanor. He reminded her of a teddy bear in need of a hug. And didn't Belle say to reassure everyone that the castle was safe and the so-called Beast was gone?

Sophie was standing there, pondering all of this, opening and closing her mouth. Now _she_ was the one who was nervous. Lefou noticed this. "Are… you all right? Something I said about the castle? Hey, want a drink?" he asked, lightheartedly.

She opened her mouth again, and took a deep breath. "Sure, I'll have a drink." She accepted a bottle from him.

"Okay, Monsieur Lefou, I have to tell you something about the castle. I need to let everyone know the truth around here about it. It's safe. It's _not_ haunted anymore. And for the last time, _There. Is. No. Beast!_ You are correct, your friend killed him, and we are grateful. You see, I am a servant for Prince Adam, the Lost Prince. _He_ lives there now. And I live there, since I'm a maid. He is going to marry Belle DeFleur, one of your town's own. I'm sure you know her. And the wedding's the day after tomorrow! So tell all the rest of your friends here at the tavern tonight," she gestured to the bar, "that they- and you- are all invited to the 'creepy castle.' And thanks for the drinks, by the way."

He was staring at her wide-eyed. Sophie blushed. She was certain the words still ringing in the high-ceilinged room were the equivalent of verbal vomit. Was she going to regret spilling the beans in this way? Would Adam and Belle be angry?

"So you… did you say you _live_ there?" he whispered. His brown eyes were devoid of their earlier mirth and were dead serious.

"Yes."

"Uh, okay. What's your name?"

"Mademoiselle Ouilette. You can call me Sophie."

"Nice to meet you, Sophie. I'll help you carry these crates. Half price, again."

"Thanks." They both carried a crate out to the wagon, where Antoinette was waiting, drinking water from one of the town's horse troughs. She paid him from her coin bag. "Thanks again… Ignatius," she said, looking at the tag on a bottle.

"Only my mother ever called me that," Lefou said, looking down at his shoes. "Can you give Belle my best wishes?"

"Of course. Thanks again!" She had one more stop, to Monsieur Libre's book store, to drop off Belle's donated books. Lefou waved at her from the tavern door.

"Oh, by the way- you have an amazing singing voice." Sophie called back from the wagon buckboard, grinning.

Back in the tavern, Lefou went right back to Gaston's portrait and addressed it once again.

"You _did_ it! It's really true!" he exclaimed. Then, he thought a little sympathy for the hero was needed. "Gee, sorry, Gaston, but I guess it's true about Belle," he added. He took a swig of ale. "Belle was strange, though, can I say that?"

He looked out the open door. "And why _is_ it that the cute ones are always the strange ones? This girl didn't even swoon at your picture!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- Danger in the Wood

The early evening was proving to retain its bright spring weather as Belle and Adam took another walk through the woods. Belle was gazing up in the branches at the birds, chatting about their identifications and colors.

"See, Adam? That is a Blackburnian Warbler. It has an orange throat and a higher-pitched song than the Chestnut-Sided or Bay-Breasted Warblers. Although the female Blackburnian looks a lot like the Chestnut-Sided," Belle explained, looking through one of her father Maurice's latest inventions, a set of small scopes with lenses that magnified like a sailor's scope, but was much smaller.

"Very nice, dear," Adam said lovingly, putting his arm around his soon-to-be-wife. He never paid that much attention to birds before, but since Belle loved them so, he now wanted to take part with her. "Are those chickadees?" he asked, noting a pair of small black and white birds.

"Yes, Adam, they are!" said Belle. "Chickadees are forever faithful birds. In love, that is. They pick a mate, and remain true to him or her forever. Not all species of birds do that, you know." Her amber-brown eyes looked teasingly up at him.

"Well, I would hope you will always be my chickadee," Adam teased back. They embraced for another kiss. Belle had never been happier in her entire life. Adam was still in an upbeat mood, and there was only one day between today, and the morning of their wedding, the first Sunday of April.

"Look, Adam, a deer!" Belle pointed out to him. A large, graceful, light-brown doe passed across the clearing, and turned to stare Belle and Adam straight in the eye.

"Stay still, if you move you will scare her away," said Belle. They locked eyes with the deer for about two minutes, until she finally bounded away, back into the forest.

"Let's go back in for dinner now. Thierry has prepared a ham, and it smells delicious," suggested Adam. They returned to the castle, and sat in their private dining room, where Lumiere came in and poured Adam a weak red wine which was really nothing but grape juice, and Belle some warm milk. He brought potatoes as well, and Thierry, the talented old cook, arrived with a platter of ham cooked with sweet onion soup.

"One of our last dinners together as single people," said Adam.

"So true," Belle answered. They made casual conversation alone over dinner, while listening to the servants in the adjoining rooms chatter and laugh, Mirielle and Chip's voices the loudest and Cogsworth's chiding the dog who had been allowed to run through the kitchen rooms. This was her new extended family, Belle thought, and it couldn't get any more blissful.

The doe that Belle and Adam had been watching bounded deep into the forest, where she heard more human voices. She wasn't afraid; rather, she slowly approached them.

Three of the young men who were on Adam's staff were in the forest, enjoying some extra leisure by deciding to go hunting. It was the two castle guards, Luc and Noel, and the horse groom, Michel. Michel was twenty-two years old, Luc and Noel were brothers of twenty-four and twenty-two, and the three, when together, liked nothing other than looking for mischief.

"So, are you looking forward to the wedding reception, Luc?" Noel asked. "Maybe we can meet some girls. They are supposed to be a lot of people from the village coming."

"I sure am!" said Luc. "I plan to play the rounds, indulge in some drinks, and see what old Molyneux has to offer in the lady department. Michel, you said you had a date already. Who did you ask?"

"Pauline!" exclaimed Michel. "The cleaning maid, the little one who's younger than Babette. She's one of the only girls on staff who's smaller than me, so we won't look weird on the dance floor!" joked the slight, skinny Michel.

"Except for Mirielle, the kid!" laughed Luc. "Five years and she'll be a looker, too."

"That little bookworm?" spluttered Noel in laughter. "She follows Belle around like a shadow, and sits in the library studying all of the time. Some girlfriend or wife _she'd _make, I'll feel sorry for any fellow who courts her someday."

"Look!" whispered Michel. He pointed out the large doe standing but thirty feet away.

"Musket, or arrows?" Luc whispered back. Luc had his bow and arrows, while the other two were shouldering muskets. "I want to take this one- you got the fox last time, Noel!"

Luc took aim with his bow at the doe, and tried to hold still. All of a sudden, a gravelly voice called out, "Helllllp!"

"What was that?" said Michel. The deer scampered away.

"Thanks a _lot_, you little idiot!" said Luc. "You made me miss her!"

The three young men turned toward the source of the voice. They were shocked to see an elderly lady, wrapped up in a decrepit shawl and limping toward them, her homely face twisted in agony and pain.

"Can anyone help me?" she said pitifully. "I am lost, and my wagon broke down. I need shelter for the night. Can you bring me to the castle, so I can rest?"

Luc looked at Michel and Noel in slight irritation at the interruption in their fun. But Michel and Noel returned his gaze sternly. "We need to help her," said Noel.

"Yes, madame, we will take you to the castle. Is there anything else we can do for you as well?" asked Noel, as they all approached her. He and Luc helped her up, as she was about to fall from exhaustion. "Michel, get a wagon and a horse."

"Okay," said Michel. He gathered his hunting gear and ran off towards the castle as fast as he could. The brothers continued to help the old woman walk further, one on each side of her. In less than ten minutes, Michel arrived with Antoinette, pulling a wagon with blankets on the seat. They drove her to the castle, and helped her up the flight of stairs. They pulled the doorbell, since it was locked in the evening. Cogsworth answered.

"Good evening, boys. Gone hunting again, I assume?" He looked at the old woman in surprise. "Oh, heavens, who is this? Do you need some assistance, madam?"

She was panting and too much in pain to talk. Noel answered for her. "Cogsworth, we found this lady stranded in the woods. She needs a place to rest for the night. Do you mind?"

"Not at all! Madame, you can take one of the extra guestrooms upstairs, in the servants' wing. Boys, you are very chivalrous, I am proud of you. You may go back out. Madame, I will escort you to a room."

He led her upstairs, holding her arm just as the young brothers had. "The accommodations in these rooms are simple, but very comfortable. We are _always_ willing to offer hospitality to wandering strangers. After all, it was such an incident, about six months ago, which led to events that… well, made our lives here _so_ much better!" Cogsworth laughed. "What is your name?"

The old woman continued to wheeze and pant. "Madame…Dufresne." she finally said. "Thank you so much, sir." They entered a bedroom, and Cogsworth lit a fire in the fireplace, since the evening was beginning to chill. "I will have Lumiere bring you breakfast at nine. Good night, madame." He closed the door.

"Odd. Quite odd," Cogsworth said to himself, shaking his head, as he went back downstairs. "Hmm... I smell pie." His adept nose led him to the small servants' dining area off from the kitchen. The door was usually open, but it was closed. He opened it and bounded in.

There he found Mrs. Potts and Maurice, sitting face to face to each other at a little table, holding hands tightly. They startled when they saw Cogsworth. "Don't you think you ought to knock?" Mrs. Potts scolded.

"I beg your pardon," Cogsworth apologized. His eyes widened when he looked down at the table. A little black velvet box was sitting between Mrs. Potts and Maurice, and a diamond ring lay in it. Cogsworth gasped. "Why, what seems to be the occasion?"

"Well, we might as well tell him, Emmeline," said Maurice. "I just proposed to her. Five minutes ago."

Cogsworth broke into a huge grin. "Why congratulations! I'll go get Lumiere. This calls for a bottle of _wine_!"

"No, _do not_ get Lumiere!" said Mrs. Potts in a stage whisper. "_Especially_ not him. He'll go off about it to everyone. We didn't want to tell anyone until after the Master's and Belle's wedding. It wouldn't be proper to upstage them."

Her expression softened as she turned to look at Maurice. "And don't worry, the Master knows and he's perfectly fine with that. He was the one who's been pushing Maurice toward it anyway. He's been saying, 'Maurice, you are family now, and the way you are so close with Emmeline Potts only tells me one thing. You marry the lady, or else you'll be inventing yourself into a hole, digging yourself an early grave!'"

The three of them laughed. Prince Adam, in his current blissful state, had decided that marriage was the key to everything and was apt to command it to everyone who he felt would benefit.

Cogsworth had found himself a piece of cherry pie. He dug a silver fork into it, while grinning at Mrs. Potts and Maurice, still clasping hands over the table.

"Master Adam is young, but with all that he's been through, he is very wise," he reasoned.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7- The Eve of the Wedding

The next morning dawned a little cloudy, but still warm. Belle awakened early and went to check on the foods and decorations, and see what the cooks and maids were up to while Adam stayed asleep for quite some time. She learned that Lumiere had come down with a bit of a cold, and Cogsworth told her about the sick old lady he had brought in to spend the night.

"Did she say where she was from?" asked Belle.

"No, the poor old thing could barely speak. I think she is still sleeping. Maybe she's from the village. I could have someone, probably Michel, bring her home today. Say, Mirielle, can you come here for a moment?"

"What is it, Mr. Cogsworth?" asked Mirielle. She was expecting that there would be no tutoring today, but that was to be expected, on the eve of the wedding.

"Could you go upstairs to the guest rooms near your quarters, the first blue room near the landing, and bring a sick visitor a tray of breakfast? Lumiere has a nasty cold, so I told him not to touch anything edible or serve anyone today."

"Sure, Mr. Cogsworth," Mirielle said. She followed him to the kitchen and took one of the breakfast trays from him, and walked upstairs, to the first small guestroom at the landing. She entered, and found a withered, skull-faced, very elderly lady asleep in the blue-counterpaned bed. She tiptoed over, and set the tray on the table beside her.

Mirielle wondered if it would be more polite to wake her, so she could have breakfast right away, and get home faster from this strange place, or let her sleep. After a moment's debate, she thought the first option would be better. Eggs always tasted revolting when they were cold. So Mirielle gently said, "Madame?"

The old lady snored, and just turned over a bit. Mirielle happened to glance at the pillow, and she saw a strange object.

A wooden stick lay on the pillow case. It had elaborate carvings of snakes on it. It looked like…

Mirielle gasped in terror. A magic wand. She had seen one of those before, just a few days earlier, and it looked very much like it. _Exactly_ like it.

Furthermore, how many times had Belle and Adam told the story of Adam's initial encounter with the Enchantress? Was it not a rather ugly old crone who wanted a place to stay? Good heavens, this lady here looked like death warmed over. But how could she know for sure?

She reached her hand, ever so slowly, to the pillow, and picked up the wand, ever so gently. After she had it grasped tightly in her hand, she quickly padded, lightly, out of the room, down the stairs, through the grand hall, and into the main kitchen, scanning over everyone seated at the servants' breakfast tables, until she finally spotted Belle, who usually sat with her father and Mrs. Potts every morning.

"Belle!" she panted. "Where's Master Adam?"

"He may be sleeping late," said Belle. "Is something wrong, Mirielle?"

"Belle, you know the old sick lady in the bed? I found this on her pillow," Mirielle whispered. She showed her the wand.

Belle looked at it for a moment, confused, and then looked up into Mirielle's concerned brown eyes. Why would the girl be trying to confiscate a stranger's belongings?

"Can you please get Adam?" Mirielle begged.

"All right, Mirielle. I can go knock on his door." Belle headed toward the West Wing. Mirielle followed her up. If it had been any other child, Belle would have dismissed it as silly. But Mirielle was not the type of youngster known for jokes.

The staff in the kitchen didn't pay much attention to this exchange. Cogsworth took a croissant and sat down with Mrs. Potts and Maurice.

"Cogsworth, dear, I think I may have convinced someone to serve as a nanny for Chip and Mirielle. I love watching over the children, but I just don't have the energy anymore and the cooking and serving is wearing on me at my age," Mrs. Potts told him.

The truth was that Chip was actually Emmeline Potts' grandson, not her birth son. Her daughter, Elizabeth, and son-in-law had caught tuberculosis and tragically died when little Charles was a baby. Mr. and Mrs. Potts had taken their grandchild as their own, right before they moved from England to France, where they spent several years serving for Adam's parents, Prince Alexandre Vincente and Princess Marie Eugenie.

One winter, the royal couple fell victim to an epidemic, and both died when Adam was eight. Mr. Nicholas Potts, a tall, charming butler who had been married to Emmeline for twenty-seven years, had also, sadly, been a victim of the disease the same year.

This was a story of loss that had bonded her to the man she sat with this very morning, the funny and quirky Maurice Defleur. His former wife, Helene, who so resembled their daughter Belle, had also passed when Belle was only six. The two of them had been able to endure the searing agony of grief, so they lived each day as a gift, found humor in practically everything, and looked forward to a new and different era in their lives.

"You didn't, Emmeline! You actually convinced Prince Adam to write your niece and tell her to come out and join the staff here? Are you certain that we _need _any more staff members?" chuckled Maurice. "I mean, look at everyone here! This place is huge, I can see it needing fifty people to dust it, but as far as watching over two young ones, I think they're just fine. I raised Belle alone. A nanny! That's just odd."

Maurice was finding it hard to adjust to the difference between peasant culture and palace culture. He still thought having almost seventy people living together in one enormous building, formerly serving only one person, but now a small family, and communing together was an odd lifestyle.

"But Maurice, there is someone in my family from back home who needs a position, and I really would like her here with me. It's my niece, Pippa. She's arriving today on the coach along with the orchestra members. She's attending the wedding, and so she will get to socialize and meet all of us, as well as the children."

"In that case, that's nice, Emmeline. I'd like to meet someone from your family," replied Maurice.

"That sounds just superb, Emmeline," said Cogsworth. He thought he had better start calling her by her first name, since he secretly knew that eventually he would get "Mrs. Potts" and "Mrs. DeFleur" mixed up too often. "I had better go check on dear Lumiere and Babette, and make sure they are behaving themselves in his room."

He left the kitchen and started to walk along the grand ballroom. He was startled to see Adam, followed farther back by Belle and Mirielle, striding quickly- then running- across the shiny polished floor, with a look on his face to kill.

He made eye contact with Cogsworth; his eyes seemed to shoot blue flames into Cogsworth's soul. He'd seen that look before, although the last time he saw it, there was a little more fur involved.

Adam raced up the stairs with the grace of a panther. Cogsworth, Belle, and Mirielle heard a horrible, gravelly-voiced scream. When Adam emerged from the foremost bedroom, he was carrying the little old lady over his shoulder like a rucksack, running down the stairs while her tangled, grey-maned head bounced on his back.

"Cogsworth! Open the front door!" he roared.

"Master, what on _earth_ are you doing? That poor little…"

"OPEN THE CONFOUNDED DOOR THIS INSTANT, I SAID!"

Cogsworth strode as fast as he could and opened the door before Adam ran outside, still carrying the woman like a rag doll. He watched, horrified, as he began to throw her down the long front staircase, growling, "GET OUT!"

Before she hit the steps, though, a light flashed brightly, and Delphine quickly grew and transformed into her golden-haired, ethereal self. She floated a little over the stairs, and landed on her black-booted feet on the yellowed spring grass just in front of the staircase.

She glared at Adam in disgust, then reached into the pocket of her dress for something.

"My wand! Where is my wand?" she demanded.

Adam looked back at Mirielle, who was still holding the snake-carved wooden stick. "Mirielle! Run to the fireplace and throw the wand in! Burn the wretched thing!" he called out.

But Delphine heard his words. She pointed her finger and muttered something under her breath.

"Owww!" yelled Mirielle. The wand in her hand suddenly became hot, and she dropped it. It floated up, flew out of the open doorway, and propelled past an enraged Adam right into Delphine's hand.

The Enchantress took a deep breath and shakily pointed it at Adam. "_Homme-"_

Adam gasped. A horrible memory came to his mind. It was the same thing, all over again-

But then, she screamed. She and Adam both heard wolves barking at the front gate, and then they saw them- the same three huge wolves from before- charging at Delphine once again. There was flash of light, and the Enchantress was gone.

The wolves turned around, and trotted back to the front gate, away from the castle as a shocked Adam and Belle watched.

"And STAY AWAY!" screamed Adam, shaking his fists. He turned and went back in, slamming the door. He looked at Cogsworth, Mirielle, and Belle for a moment, panting in exhaustion. Cogsworth's round, mustached face was as white as a sheet.

"What are you all looking at?" Adam said, embarrassed. He took a deep breath, and strode back toward the West Wing. Belle, flushed with concern, decided to follow him. "Thank you, Mirielle," she whispered to the girl, before leaving them.

Upstairs in the West Wing's plush sitting room, Belle tried to calm her fiancé. She put her hand on his shoulder while he slumped in his favorite chair.

"Everything will be all right. Cogsworth didn't know, and she shouldn't be back again. I think you scared her away. I'm _certain_ you did."

"She never lets up. Why can't she ever leave us alone? Doesn't she have a… I don't know… a witch family she can go terrorize? Or why can't she go bother some of the village peasants? What is it about _me_, and my people, that she wants to keep tricking us and cursing us?" Adam was still fuming, shaking his fists.

"I honestly don't know, Adam. Maybe because you are royalty? And royal people and their households are more fun for Enchantresses to bring down than common folk?"

"Then why doesn't she go turn the King Himself into a warthog?" He looked around, a little nervously. "I didn't mean that. I hope no one heard." Any princes or nobles not in the King's direct family line, who said insulting things about him, were apt to face an untimely death if found out.

"It'll all be okay." Belle repeated. "Just rest here as long as you can. I will go down and get some tea for you," she said soothingly.

Belle walked out and went back downstairs. She strode past a gobsmacked Lumiere and Babette, who were about to open their mouths, but Belle snapped, "I'll talk about it later!"

A knock sounded at the door. Cogsworth went to answer it. He peeked through the little window first, in fear that the Enchantress was still lurking, possibly in the form of a tattered urchin child this time. But it was three splendidly dressed men in blue, who were unfamiliar to all except Lumiere and Babette.

Since there were three of them, and all men, Cogsworth decided to give them a chance. How much magic would it take for the crazy witch to multiply herself by three, and change gender at that? And with other guests due to arrive tonight, including Mrs. Potts' niece and the orchestra musicians, Cogsworth's head was going to explode if he were to try to ascertain whether they all were undercover Enchantresses or not.

"Good afternoon," said Cogsworth. "I am pleased to welcome you, and will arrange to find you accommodations tonight before the wedding. Are you a friend of the Prince, or a blood relation?"

"We are afraid we are neither, monsieur," said Fabien LaBarre. He took off his hat and walked in, his handsome sons following. "May I speak to the Master and Mistress?"

"Certainly," replied Cogsworth. He quickly summoned them, and the three visitors met alone with Adam and Belle in a smaller, more private study in the West Wing.

"Your Grace, Prince Adam," said Fabien, "this is going to sound extraordinarily strange to you, but in light of this morning's events we are much more likely you will believe us. We are magical men, much like the Enchantress. Our magic is just as powerful as hers."

"Are you in earnest?" Adam asked. He'd had quite enough for the day, and wasn't about to suffer tricks or deception for a minute.

Bastien, the taller son with wavy, long dark hair, waved a hand at Belle's dress. It immediately changed color from blue to brilliant pink. He waved a finger at Adam as well, and his grey coat changed to golden yellow.

"We are," said Fabien. "We have been watching over the castle and over the woods surrounding it in order to find the Enchantress, and capture her. We want to apologize to you for the fact that she slipped though our guard last night, by transforming her appearance. She will do that not only to fool people, what happens also is we can't pick up the magic in her path as strongly as we usually can. So we have called for a vast army of Sorcerers to guard your palace, and extra squads to comb through the woods. We want to stay and guard as long as we can, and if we catch her magic aura, we will follow it wherever we can. We just wanted to introduce ourselves to you and let you know we will be on the job in full force, from now on."

"Thank you," said Adam. "I believe you now, with what I have seen, and I am very relieved to hear this."

"Our pleasure," said Fabien. "You will see us around and about your wedding celebration tomorrow, so take peace, and congratulations." He turned to Belle. "Much pleasure to meet you, my lady," he said, taking her hand and bowing. Bastien and Benoit did the same, taking Belle's hand, and giving a gracious bow to her. They turned to leave.

"Ah… excuse me, gentlemen, our clothes?" said Adam.

"Oh, pardon us, Your Grace," replied Bastien. He waved his hand and Adam's golden coat turned back to grey, and Belle's shocking pink dress turned back to blue.

After they left, Adam felt reassured. The fright of the day was now over, and, hopefully, they could go on with relaxing on the eve of their wedding as planned. After dinner, three large coaches arrived in intervals. The first coach delivered a group of twelve musicians for the orchestra. The second was a pretty lady in her mid-thirties with a warm smile and chestnut hair, in a modest black dress. Mrs. Potts was ecstatic when Cogsworth welcomed her in.

"Pippa!" exclaimed Mrs. Potts. Do come in, I shall fix you some tea. And dessert! I showed Thierry how to make scones!" she said, hugging her niece.

"Oh, thank you so much, Aunt Emmie!" sighed Pippa. "I am so exhausted from the travel. So many days- I didn't get seasick on the boat, though. Will I meet the children, soon?"

"You will meet them during the wedding dinner and ball; just try to relax for tonight." Mrs. Potts answered. "They are going to bed early. Come into the dining area, dear. Cogsworth, come with us. Just the three of us, we'll have a little English club, no French allowed. Except maybe Maurice, we'll translate for him if he wants." They all headed toward the dining area.

Soon afterward, a third coach arrived. Babette ran to answer the door this time.

"Madame de La Grande Bouche! You are back! Magnifique!"

The tall, elegant lady in waiting had returned from a two week long trip to Paris, to order dresses and suits for those in the palace who needed something new to wear to the wedding. Adam and Belle had what they were going to wear, of course, but the palace staff's formal clothes were horridly out of date, and Madame was determined to make everyone look their best tomorrow.

Comfortable rooms were prepared for fourteen guests, and everyone turned in for the night on a peaceful note.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8- Wedding Day

Belle was awakened early from a deep sleep by a gentle knock on her bedroom door. Groggily, she rose to answer, expecting Mrs. Potts or Madame. It was Adam.

"What are you doing here so early?" she said, startled, sticking only her head out of the doorway.

"You know the tradition," said Adam. I have come to escort you to the main hall!" He was already splendidly dressed in his favorite blue formal suit.

"It's seven o'clock in the morning, dear. The ceremony is at eleven."

"But I still want to escort you, Belle. Please?" Adam grinned. He was back in a cheerful disposition.

"At least let me get dressed, all right?"

"All right," Adam replied. Madame La Grande Bouche was behind him, and she entered before Adam closed the door. Madame stood in wait as Belle ran to the water basin in her room and splashed some on her face, then Madame helped fix her hair into a chignon, pinning little silk blue and white flowers in it after she finished.

They went to her large closet, where her wedding gown was hung up. Madame helped her put on her camisole and petticoats and tie her corset, and while Belle trembled nervously, Madame took down the dress and helped Belle put it on.

"Magnifique, Belle. I believe we are ready!"

"Oh, I can't forget my locket!" cried Belle. She went to the side table and put on her favorite golden locket, before exiting her room.

A dozen men, dressed in black frock coats and smart white ruffled blouses, stood with their musical instruments. The oldest of them gave a signal, and they begin to play a short, merry tune. Adam and Madame stood with them, beaming.

"Time to escort my bride," Adam said, taking her arm. The musicians filed down the hall, and Maurice and Mrs. Potts met Adam in the hallway as well. They approached the landing of the stairs, where large white ribbons blocked their path. Mirielle, dressed in a frothy pale-blue frock with blue flowers in her hair, and Chip, dressed in a blue nautical-style suit, stood behind the ribbon, and Mirielle handed Belle a pair of kitchen scissors.

Belle happily cut the ribbon, and they all proceeded down the stairs where another white ribbon blocked their path, which Belle also cut. They went into the great main hall, which was gaily decorated with more white ribbons and flowers of all hues of the rainbow. A few hundred chairs were set out in rows.

"Let's all go into the dining area for a light breakfast, shall we?" Adam announced. They proceeded to the dining room, where Belle, Adam, Mrs. Potts, and Maurice sat together at one table, and the musicians and the entire staff took places as well, chatting and eating merrily as if it were a normal morning. Mrs. Potts was wearing a deep blue velvet gown, and Maurice had a black suit similar to those worn by the orchestra members. The castle servants were dressed to the hilt as well- Lumiere, Cogsworth and the rest of the men in similar black suits with ruffled, white lacy blouses, and the women servants were all wearing elegant velvet gowns similar to the one Mrs. Potts was wearing; Madame's was emerald green, Babette's was plum, Sophie's was burgundy, and the others in similar shades with various styles of necklines and sleeves.

As the crowd sat chatting for a while, the door sounded and Cogsworth went to answer it. It was a priest, accompanied by his altar boys. It was time for the servants to begin clearing the dining hall and getting it ready for the wedding banquet later at noon, and with everyone's help, it was complete. Thierry, the cook, and Marcel, the sous chef, were already preparing the lunch, aided by a group of helpful, excited village women, including Marie Desjardins, the baker's wife, and Marie Fortier, the seamstress who had created Belle's dress.

It finally reached the hour of eleven o'clock. Belle and Maurice had retired to a sitting room, and were waiting for their cue to go out to the great hall.

"Oh, Father, I am so nervous. What if I trip, or lose my voice and can't speak?"

"It won't matter, no one would notice," Maurice waved his hand. "They will only notice the most beautiful bride and Princess in the land."

Belle took a deep breath. Cogsworth arrived, with a huge grin on his face. He was enjoying his job _way_ too much for his own good. "Your groom awaits," he said in his best formality.

The ceremony proceeded without a hitch. Maurice led Belle to the altar, where the priest stood with Adam, beneath a huge, white silk canopy. The servants stood in long rows along the hall, the men on the right, the women on the left. The priest spoke in Latin, and the serious formality and foreign language made Belle a little nervous again, but when it was time to do the vows, Belle's and Adam's voices rang loud and clear. Prayers were said, and Adam finally took her face in his hands and kissed her lovingly, while the crowd politely clapped, with the exception of Lumiere, who wolf-whistled, until Cogsworth elbowed him in the stomach.

The couple was formally announced as "His Royal Grace, Prince Adam Vincente Christophe and Her Royal Grace, Princess Belle Therese of the Eastern Highland Region of Thionville-Metz-Nancy."

The ceremony itself was relatively short, and the Prince and Princess finally walked down through the center aisle, as the crowd of nearly five hundred tossed little handfuls of wheat and rice. It was a unique and perfect blend of royal setting and pomp, and peasant village traditions. Finally, they could breathe easy and relax, enjoying the company of their friends and castle staff family.

Adam had been a little disappointed last night, because his only blood relatives, two uncles, had not shown up. His own family line had generally died off, and was forgotten in favor of the Bourbons and other, more prominent aristocratic families. However, he felt as if he had all the family he wanted, right here.

They enjoyed a sumptuous banquet; chicken dishes and soups made by old Thierry DePotage and his staff. An enormous, golden-brown _croqembouche_ was set out, and Adam and Belle kissed again over the first piece, to merry applause. Belle took the occasion to point out her village friends Andre and Marie to the crowd for recognition of their baking skills.

"So, my Belle," Adam asked her quietly at the dinner table, "do you feel any different? Like a real Princess? Or a…wife?"

"It hasn't really sunk in yet. I don't know yet...but I know I will get used to it," Belle assured him. She was looking forward to enjoying the celebrations of the day, and perhaps, when things had quieted and hours had passed, the reality of her new status would sink in. For the moment, she could only look upon her new husband, and how happy he was, and how she'd dreamed of a moment like this ever since she was a child.

The banquet settled into desserts and lively social banter which was enjoyed by everyone. Later in the afternoon, the musicians begin to set up for the formal ball, which was to last from four to midnight.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9- Wedding Ball

The orchestra musicians were seated in the band circle at four and begin to play their first tune, and the Prince and Princess slowly danced while hundreds watched. Adam was beaming and in the best of sorts, while Belle was a little nervous again with all of the eyes upon her. She gazed at Adam and tried to imagine being completely alone at this moment, but it was difficult. She was a little relieved when the first dance ended, and she went to mingle with Mrs. Potts, Maurice, Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts' niece Pippa, while Adam graciously shook hands with scores and scores of Molyneux townspeople.

"May I have this dance?" Cogsworth asked of Pippa. She was going to take on the post of nanny to Mirielle and Chip, and, noticing that she seemed rather shy and overwhelmed, he wanted to make her feel more at home. They set off to dance the next few tunes.

"So you have come from near London. Are you going to miss it at all?" Cogsworth asked her as they steered around the dance floor.

"Yes, I will miss it a little. Not so much London itself, but the boy I had been a nurse for ever since he was tiny. He's fourteen now, and so I had to move on. You mentioned you grew up in London, Mr. Cogsworth. Do you miss it?"

"I miss it terribly. Particularly the severed heads impaled upon the Tower," Cogsworth deadpanned.

Pippa clapped her hand to her mouth to try to hide her giggles. Cogsworth, being in his best element and with an engaged audience, pressed his wit even farther. "Say, I have an English joke for you."

"Oh, I couldn't imagine that," said Pippa, grinning.

"There was a priest who lived in the American colonies, and one day, a new couple came in from across the pond. They were from _East_ London," Cogsworth said, giving Pippa a raised eyebrow, "and they wished to have their baby girl baptized. The priest asked what the child's name was, and the father answered, 'Spindona.' The priest was rather confuddled, but he realized that children in his town were being given unusual names, such as 'Purity' and 'Flee-Fornication,' so 'Spindona' wasn't quite so bad. He proceeded with the baptism. The father was furious! He said…" (at this point Cogsworth adroitly switched his accent) "What the bloody blazes are you getting at? That's no' 'er name! I say it was _pinned 'oan 'er_!" Cogsworth went back to his normal accent. "And indeed a tag was pinned on the child's gown. Mary Martha."

Pippa erupted in giggles. "Oh, you are dreadfully uncouth! You remind me of Mr. Edgington back home," she said. Cogsworth and Pippa continued to dance and laugh together for the whole round of musical numbers, Cogsworth firing off one corny joke after another.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Potts and Maurice stood in one corner, talking with Belle and Sophie. They were watching Lumiere and Babette embracing on the dance floor. Maurice was jovially trying to convince Mrs. Potts to dance with him, and she finally relented. They laughed and danced, in the example of Cogsworth and Pippa.

Adam returned to Belle's side, and put his arm around her. Sophie, standing nearby, gushed with congratulations to them. "I am so happy for both of you. Have you planned to leave for a honeymoon trip, or do you wish to stay home?"

"We have decided to stay home. You just won't _see_ much of us; we will be in the west wing. So… don't bother us too much, can you all do that?" Adam said only half-jokingly, his hand grasping that of Belle, whose face was pink.

"Don't worry, we won't." Sophie said. The servants were all hoping that Adam would take Belle on a honeymoon, since many of them were secretly hoping to be out of his authority and away from his notorious mood swings. Sophie felt the need to get out of the awkward conversation, and so she glanced across the ballroom to the drink table. "Oh, there's Ignatius. I have got to go say hi, pardon me." She meandered over to a large table laden with scores of ale bottles, where Lefou had stationed himself, also dressed in a black suit similar to the musicians. He looked a little like a squat _maitre d'._

"Hello!"greeted Sophie. "I see you brought a lot more ale than what I carried in on Friday!"

"Hi! Yeah, I bought a bigger wagon. I stayed up all night making extra, and brought it here myself. The problem is, it didn't distill long enough, so it's kind of weak," he told her in a secretive tone. "That's probably a good thing, with all the tavern guys here in this fancy palace!" He looked over Sophie's shoulder. "Oh, no!" he said, nervously.

"What?"

"My sister is here. Iolanthe. She's only the most annoying woman in the village." He tried to duck under the table, but it was too late. A large, tall, battle-axe of a woman approached the drink table, shaking one of his ale bottles.

"_You call this ale_?" she shrieked. "I've drunk five of them and didn't even get a buzz! It's not even potent! What are you trying to pull off?"

"Um..." Sophie said tentatively, "He was _just _asking me to dance. Shall we?" She grabbed Lefou's hand.

"Well _finally_!" the woman yelled. "You've got a lady with you. For years I've been wondering which-"

"A pleasant evening to you too, Iolanthe!" Lefou called back to his sister, as Sophie pulled him by the hand to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Lumiere and Babette were merrily doing a sort of tango to the upbeat tune, much to the amusement of onlookers. Their moves attracted quite a bit of attention, what with cheek-to-cheek lunging and expert twirling. The orchestra then switched again to a set of slower waltzes, so they gracefully changed form.

"This is one of the finest weddings I have ever been to, Francois," said Babette dreamily. "Well, actually, it is the _only_ wedding I have ever been to." She thought for a while as they danced. Finally she piped up, casually, "Francois, what do you imagine _your_ own wedding to be like?"

Lumiere raised his eyebrows. "I imagine it being the same day as my funeral. A coffin, a hole in the ground, some tolling bells…"

"Oh_, mon dieu_!" Babette exclaimed in exasperation. She pushed away from him and strode over to the snack table, shaking and fuming. _Forget it. Just forget it_, she thought.

"What did I say?" Lumiere exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

On the opposite side of the ballroom, three sisters from the village of Molyneux lounged around in chairs, bored and petulant. Gigi, Fifi, and Mimi Beaudette were now the most attractive girls back in the village, and they knew it. They gazed over the crowd. Many people were familiar, but no one new really caught their eye. A few moments later, however, Mimi pointed to the landing of the grand staircase.

"Would you look at _them_!" she squealed.

They turned to glance over at three dashingly handsome men in blue suits. Mimi looked at Gigi and Fifi, and the three got up and sashayed over to the gentlemen.

"Hi…" Gigi breathed.

"Are you all enjoying the ball?" Fifi swooned.

"I am sorry ladies, we would love to socialize and mingle, but we are actually working at the moment," Bastien LaBarre said, politely. "We need to go back out to the castle grounds." With that, Bastien, his brother Benoit and their father, Fabien, turned down the hallway and exited the front door.

The sisters flounced away, annoyed, and sat back down on the chairs again. "This is crazy!" said Gigi. "Everyone is all paired up around here, except us. I mean, look at _him_!"

She was indicating the closest dancing couple, two rather short and stout people. Sophie was just a little bit taller than Lefou, and she had him snuggled close with his head down, resting on her chest. As a result, his face was flushed, and his expression was that of an intoxicated squirrel in nut heaven.

"So what should we do? Get another piece of cake and call it a night?" Fifi suggested.

"Sure," said Gigi, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. They rose, grabbed some cake at the table, and headed back toward the main entrance.

"Good evening, girls! I don't think we've met!" It was one of the palace guards, Luc. He and his brother Noel, along with Michel, his date Pauline, and a few other young men and women were just coming in from having a breath of cool air outside.

"Want to go outside to the grounds with us?" Luc pressed the triplets. "We have a bonfire. That's where the real party is, forget about these old stuffed shirts!" Michel and Noel snorted with laughter.

Gigi looked at Mimi and Fifi. They eyed Luc and Noel, and another young servant, Jean. Deciding they liked what they saw, they nodded happily in unison, and the group of young adults went out to socialize in the grounds.

Cogsworth and Pippa danced a few numbers, then decided to sit and have a few drinks and snacks as Cogsworth entertained Pippa with a long detailed yarn of the palace itself and its history. Pippa listened with rapt interest as he droned on, and smiled delightedly at the way he kept repeating the word "Rococo."

Lefou and Sophie continued to dance several numbers awkwardly, as the little village man was tired and seemed to keep falling asleep on Sophie's chest.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

"Um...a little?" he admitted. He looked over at a certain corner table, where a group of village men, the tavern regulars, were sitting, including two of his relatives- his cousins Gilles and Stanley. They were all grinning at him and laughing, giving him a thumbs-up. Sophie asked if he wanted to sit down and chat at one of the tables, so they picked a secluded table as far away from the village gang as possible, and sat there for hours, talking. Sophie was intrigued about the village, and didn't mind her unexpected date's constant reminiscing about his legendary dead friend.

...

Belle and Adam danced away the night, secure in each others arms. Eventually, some of the guests began to leave, and for the newlyweds, the hours of dancing and mingling were beginning to wear on them, and they decided to retire for the night. They quietly asked Cogsworth to lock down the entrance to the West Wing, and he did as asked.

Adam walked Belle upstairs, and as they reached the top of the landing, he lifted her up playfully and carried her over the threshold of the master bedroom. They enjoyed the rest of the evening alone, and everything came as natural and loving as they had hoped, their worries and awkwardness resolved in tender closeness.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10- The Wrath of Babette

The next morning, most of the castle servants chose to sleep in, temporarily relieved of most duties while the newlywed Prince and Princess were granted their privacy. The dishes in the immense palace kitchen were still unwashed, and the general consensus was that 'we'll get to it when we'll get to it.'

One maid in particular was perfectly willing to tackle the tasks. Physical work has a tendency to get one's mind off their cares and concerns, so at about nine in the morning, a petite, slender, dark haired figure came down into the kitchen alone and grappled the water pump. She filled the basin with hot, scalding water, threw in a bar of soap, and began slamming pots and pans in with determined vigor.

_Crash! Bang! _A few dishes were broken in Babette's cleaning frenzy. The noise caused Mrs. Potts and Maurice to come into the kitchen from their respective rooms on opposite ends. They still had their secret, shared with Cogsworth, that they planned to announce very soon, perhaps today if Adam and Belle happened to come down, which they had to, since eventually they'd get hungry.

"Good morning, dear!" sang Emmeline Potts, taking two large tea kettles and putting them on the great black stove, while Maurice grabbed some kindling for its fire. "Where is Lumiere this morning?"

Babette's face twisted. She was holding a frying pan by the handle, and she hurled it back down in its drawer with an ear-shattering bang.

"I DON'T KNOW, MRS. POTTS! AND GUESS WHAT? I DON'T REALLY CARE!"

Mrs. Potts widened her eyes. "I take it you had a quarrel, dear. I understand. Why don't you sit down with us? We'll have tea, leftover cake, and talk a while. Please?"

Babette tossed a towel down on the countertop. She put her hands over her face, and regaining her composure, obeyed Mrs. Potts' suggestion.

"I just don't understand that man! He and I have had this…thing…going for years, but it all got _very_ serious the moment we got our human selves back, one month ago. Well, I have been trying to ask him how he feels about…commitment."

Mrs. Potts nodded in empathy. "Has he made it absolutely clear that he never wishes to marry?"

"Yes, he made that very clear. He even said the day he marries would be the day of his _funeral_!" Babette said despairingly.

"Do you think he is happy the way things are? Are his needs being met now as they are?"

"Yes," Babette said. Then her eyes went wide. "What exactly do you mean by _that_?"

"It is all right, dear," she replied gently. I just wanted to know if he is happy whilst you are _not_ happy."

At that point, both tea kettles whistled, and Mrs. Potts rose gratefully to pour three cups for herself, Babette, and Maurice. She also got the sugar bowl, and a dainty china creamer pitcher, which were both empty.

"Maurice, love," Mrs. Potts asked her fiancé, "the creamer and sugar are both empty. We're completely out. Would you mind going into the village to the dairy farm and to the shop to get some more?"

"I guess I wouldn't mind. But doesn't Michel, or Sophie, or someone like that usually go out to get such things?" He and Belle used to have their reasons for not wanting to frequent Molyneux since the transformation. They had felt there was a stigma against them for staying for so long in the 'haunted' castle and befriending a Beast. When Belle and her father had gone back to their home the week after the eventful night, they had felt the stares and whispers.

But since yesterday, at the wedding, the last vestiges of misunderstanding and mistrust between Adam, Belle, the castle residents and the villagers had been completely dissolved. Adam had completely charmed the peasants, especially the Molyneux women, and the men respected him and his hospitality. None of them had ever realized that he had actually _been_ the Beast.

"I don't believe any of them are up yet," said Mrs. Potts. "The group of young people that Michel was a part of last night was in high spirits extremely late, and I saw Sophie talking and dancing for hours with some village gentleman. At any rate, everyone else here is asleep. I would rather _you_ do it this morning."

Mrs. Potts knew that one of Maurice's quirks was that he could not stand plain tea. He was a stickler for wanting the same thing every day, and tea with milk and sugar in it was a must. He grumbled a bit. "Only if you would come with me and get it."

"I have breakfast to prepare. I don't wish to be off post when the Master and Belle come down. Actually… if you don't wish to ever be out of cream again, and the rest of us are not in a position to _provide_ it for you, you ought to go to the farm and _buy a cow _yourself, dear."

At the moment that Mrs. Potts had uttered the phrase "position to provide it for you," her eyes had unintentionally- perhaps- fixed upon Babette's, before she shifted her gaze back to Maurice to speak the "buy a cow" part of her sentence.

Babette's face turned bright red, and her hazel eyes widened in hurt. She rose from the table and ran out of the kitchen.

"Whatever is the matter, Babette?" Mrs. Potts went after her. "What do you think I was saying- oh, dear! Heavens, no! I didn't mean _that!_"

"You think I am a scarlet woman, don't you?" Babette seethed at the sweet, grandmotherly maid.

"No, I do not," Mrs. Potts defended herself. She switched to a stern tone. "I honestly feel that if you love someone, and no commitment is made, it is best to set boundaries and if they refuse to abide to those boundaries, you may need to make ultimatums. _And_…" (Babette was still fuming, but was now hanging on to every word that the older woman was saying) "If you love someone, and you set them free, if they don't come back, they were never yours to begin with. But if they come back, they _are_ yours. Believe me. I had to struggle with a similar agreement with my Nicholas, many years ago."

Babette's face softened. "I think I had better go talk with him."

Mrs. Potts put her hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "The best of luck, dear."

Babette took a teacup, took some leftover _croquembouche_, and went upstairs to the suite of servants' rooms.

By ten-thirty or eleven, large groups of servants finally came into the kitchen; helping themselves to leftovers and helping Mrs. Potts make more tea. Maurice found Michel and asked if Phillipe and Antoinette, the best horses, could be readied and hitched to a larger wagon with an additional hitching for a third animal. He had decided to buy a cow.

At that moment, a more casually dressed, slightly red-eyed Prince and Princess came down into the common dining area.

"Your Grace!" everyone greeted them. Adam and Belle were glowing in happiness. They had spent a delightful morning in intimate wedded bliss that far exceeded that of the frazzled and tired night before. They wished to have a light breakfast, and take a leisurely walk to look at the birds and perhaps take a carriage ride alone through the woods.

Mrs. Potts gathered some eggs to cook. "Nothing fancy," said Adam, "we are very anxious to take our walk." Belle smiled at him. While breakfast was being served, Maurice gave Mrs. Potts a knowing look, and then turned toward his daughter. He took her hand, and stood before their table with Mrs. Potts by his side.

"Belle," he said, "…and Prince Adam, Emmeline and I have an announcement to make. We are getting married!"

The crowd of fifty to sixty servants in the dining hall cheered. Belle was the happiest of all.

"When, Father?" asked Belle.

"Oh, we don't know yet. Possibly next month? May is a really nice time of year," replied Maurice.

"May sounds absolutely perfect," agreed Mrs. Potts. She took the little velvet box out of her apron pocket and Maurice opened it. He put the ring on her finger to another round of applause. The two of them, after having made certain that everything was spic and span in the kitchen, decided to take a drive to the village together, to the dairy farm and to browse the shops and little café.

Two servants were missing from the joyous camaraderie in the dining hall. Lumiere and Babette were still deep in conversation, upstairs.

After Belle and Adam went outside on their walk through the gardens, they looked back and saw a figure of a tall, very slender man riding one of the remaining horses, a grey roan stallion named Florian, in a full gallop. He came a little nearer, and Belle recognized the long nose and prominent forehead of one of her most dear servant friends.

"Good morning, Lumiere! Did you rest well after last night?"

"Very well, Your Grace! Is there anything you need of service, today?"

"No," replied Adam. "We wish to give the entire staff the day off. They can fend for themselves, and so can we. We already sent Mrs. Potts and Belle's father to the village to look for a _cow_…(he furrowed his eyebrows in puzzlement) and have some time together. They are engaged to be married, of course!" Adam announced.

At this, Lumiere's tone lost its normal cheer and he looked downright cross. "I am happy for them," he said grumpily. He spurred Florian, and shot off into the distance, heading down the valley toward the village.

Belle and Adam had a pleasant afternoon bird-watching (they had made a game of counting pairs of chickadees, the number by the end of their walk was twelve, so six pairs in total) and they also hitched up Adam's fine carriage to his favorite dainty pair of white Arabians, Remy and Raoul. They explored the winding roads through the woods, and stopped by a little creek to toss pebbles.

Their conversation consisted of the future. Adam was concerned that he had too many people on staff, and since his family was dying out, he was not as wealthy anymore as he had been as a child. The riches would not last forever, and he fretted that he would be yet another penniless aristocrat someday. Belle tried to convince him that riches were not everything, and they would replenish their family line (while she nudged him in uncharacteristic flirtatiousness).

Yet, he was very worried that he would have to cut some staff. They had a new nanny, Pippa, and two underage children who needed to be educated and be allowed playtime in addition to their domestic chores. The palace staff population was now at seventy-two. Being the master of an immense castle with too many rooms, too many people to provide for, and with their own children to possibly be born someday, he had reason to worry.

"Well, Adam, perhaps some of the servants could eventually leave on their own free will," Belle surmised. "Look at those younger men- Noel, Luc, and whatever the other two are named- the guards? How much 'guarding' do they actually do? I noticed that they like to do _other_ things. They hunt a lot, and they are also cultivating those vegetable gardens for us. I wouldn't be surprised if someday, they really wanted to be dismissed from the castle to become farmers. They make much better farmers and hunters than guards."

"You do have a point, my Belle," Adam said softly, his arm around her as they watched the ripples in the stream. "I never thought to ask the servants that now, if they ever wanted to leave, they could. I ought to. They probably feel like they are indebted to me for life. But they aren't. That was my parents' way of thinking, not mine."

They talked for a while longer, of their hopes and dreams for the future. Belle wanted to do more for the village children. Besides providing books for them, she wanted to show them the artwork and music that was such a part of their palace life. She wanted to arrange for schoolchildren to visit whenever they wanted, to read to them from her library, or hold painting or singing classes. Lumiere would be the perfect candidate for leading a children's choir, she thought. And the new nanny, Pippa, was very talented as a painter.

Belle chatted on and on about activities and projects she could set up for the village people, and Adam listened, nodding his head in agreement. He, after all, had nothing to be ashamed of as far as the peasants in the outside world. He agreed that it was a new era of benevolence and diplomacy, and that aristocrats are no better than anyone else, something he learned from Belle and her father, that was certainly not taught him by his parents.

He also liked the new order of laisez-faire that was going on in the castle the last several months since Belle came to be with him. At first he didn't like the servants testing his boundaries, and their tendency to act more like friends than subordinates after his transformation in which he couldn't scare them with his Beastly form any longer. But he realized that many of them _were_ his friends. And as for the ones he was not as close to, he felt the need to let them know that they had the option to leave if they desired.

After a little while, they finally rode in their carriage back to the castle. They were greeted by Cogsworth, Pippa, and the children, who led them into the dining room for dinner. As they were walking through the great hall, they saw Babette running from the kitchen, apparently distraught.

"What is wrong, Babette?" asked Belle, concerned.

Babette turned her gaze tearfully toward the Princess.

"Francois and I have broken up." She then ran swiftly towards the stairs, to the staff women's rooms.

Belle and Adam looked perplexed at Cogsworth, who made a fist with one hand and clapped his other palm on it. "Why, I ought to…"

Belle and Adam sighed, and looked at each other. It wasn't a very good situation in light of their honeymoon period and what with Maurice and Mrs. Potts' happy announcement.

Belle hoped and prayed that the situation could work itself out.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11- Man Talk

For the next week, the routine in the castle during Adam and Belle's honeymoon period was joyfully lax. Chip and Mirielle spent much of the days running up and down the halls and stairs, chasing the dog about, until Cogsworth finally decided they ought to get a little schoolwork in. Pippa got out her art supplies, and she spent evenings teaching them to paint. She proved to be a warm and easygoing nanny, taking them on outings and picnics in the garden, Cogsworth often joining them. The four of them brought a lively atmosphere of laughter and gaiety to the castle. Adam and Belle went between cozily secluding themselves in the West Wing to going out on their daily carriage rides. They were beyond blissful.

The only tension amongst the castle servants continued to be between Lumiere and Babette, who took great pains to avoid each other. Babette took to spending most of her time with Mrs. Potts and Maurice. She worked and dined with them in silence, in a dazed and depressed state.

Lumiere, when not tidying up or serving the royal couple, took to riding at full gallop about the countryside on a horse. Sophie, too, was often absent from the castle most afternoons; she seemed to keep finding little reasons to run the wagon over to Molyneux.

On a late Saturday morning, nearly a week after the wedding, Lumiere happened to be in his room with his door open. Cogsworth was in the hallway, and the Englishman finally decided that enough was enough. He entered Lumiere's room, determined to corner him and have a little man-to-man talk.

"Lumiere, I know this is probably none of my business-"

"It _is_ none of your business," interrupted Lumiere, lighting a pipe while he looked out his window.

"Maybe so, but I really want to inquire why you would hurt Babette in such a matter. Honestly, why are you letting her go in this way?"

"She is forcing me into marriage, Cogsworth! Marriage may be fine for others, but it is not for me. I liked things just the way they were."

"I still don't see why you are being so stubborn. She is a fine young lady, she cares deeply for you. Let me give you some advice, I honestly think-"

Lumiere turned sharply around to face Cogsworth. "_Oh ho-ho_! I do believe someone is giving me advice about matters of _love_! And who may that sage expert on _l'amour_ happen to be, pray tell? Why it's George A. Cogsworth, of course! _Cogsworth_, who at age forty-four and a bachelor has not had an amorous relationship for _decades_! Cogsworth, whose only experience lately with breasts and legs is when he is devouring one of Thierry's rotisserie chickens!"

Lumiere took a drag from his pipe and blew a column of smoke into Cogsworth's reddening face. Cogsworth remained stoic, calmly letting the smoke, and the insults, blow past his head.

"Perhaps I should be giving _you _some advice," continued Lumiere, frantically pacing with his pipe smoke trailing behind him. "You do know that I have noticed the way Mademoiselle Davis looks at you. The way she laughs at every ridiculous thing that comes out of your mouth! And I notice the way you look at her as well. Come on, Cogsworth, why don't you just pursue the matter? What are you waiting for? No wonder us French beat you English in penetrating the Mississippi River in the American continent!"

Cogsworth was getting flustered now, because Lumiere had hit a nerve. The truth was that he was indeed developing some niggling, subsurface feelings for Pippa. Despite their fast friendship and easy rapport both between the two of them and with the two children, he felt an uncomfortable self-consciousness which he, of course, always tried to diffuse away with his jokes. He was worried, deep down, that Pippa would reject his serious, more vulnerable side if he were to show it to her. So when he was around her, he always felt the urge to play the comedian.

"Because it is not proper and it is not something I have the liberty to…" He was feeling sweat beads develop on his forehead. "Mademoiselle Davis is my colleague and friend. It is strictly professional! Now, if you don't mind, stop changing the subject. Why don't you just ask for the lady's hand in marriage?"

"Because marriage is not always the glorious establishment that everyone around here is making it to be!" Lumiere yelled. "My father…never mind." He turned back toward the window, still smoking his pipe.

"You are not your father," replied Cogsworth.

Lumiere turned around, uncharacteristically angry and hurt. "My father was a fine, good and brave man. I would have wished to live up to him, on the contrary! I never told you about him. It was my mother who did him wrong," Lumiere couldn't help himself, he didn't want to share his past family life, but here it was, being dragged out for Cogsworth to finally hear.

"My father tried to give my mother the world! He was a soldier for His Majesty's army. While he served bravely off the continent, my mother was philandering around with every rich man she could make to look upon her. When he finally came home, she had left. Run away with one of her paramours. She also spent nearly every franc of his meager salary. I was taken with her, sent to an academy paid for by her new husband. My father visited me often. When I was fourteen, he told me once, 'Enjoy women, Francois, but never put yourself in the position where you could be taken advantage of and thrown away.'"

He lowered his head, the pipe in his hand drooping enough to cause an ash to fall and smolder briefly on the hardwood floor.

Cogsworth sat silent for a minute. He didn't know how to reply to his friend, but finally, he spoke a tentative answer in a quiet and soothing voice.

"But what of Babette," he said. "How is she supposed to feel, giving and being given your love for such a time, then thrown into the cold of being only your colleague from now on? I doubt she will ever just want to be your friend, either. Women don't just snuff their feelings out like a candle, you know."

Lumiere sat slumped in a chair, looking at the floor. His pipe was in an ashtray.

Cogsworth continued. "I honestly don't think you can compare Babette to your mother," he reasoned. "I doubt she-and you-could ever be in that situation. And the only rich man in this vicinity for miles around is, I believe, Prince Adam here, and he's well taken. Besides, she has eyes for _you_ only. Despite the fact you are not exactly a muscle-bound Adonis-"

Lumiere looked up at him indignantly. Cogsworth immediately retorted, "But then, neither am _I_," he chuckled, looking down at his own soft portly physique. "But the honest truth is, I feel you are taking your father's advice too much at an extreme, to the point where you're being ridiculous. And I say this to you because you _are_ my best friend, Francois Lumiere."

The two men looked each other eye to eye, and then looked down at their feet, sitting in silence for a few minutes.

Lumiere finally spoke. "And you are my best friend as well."

"Would you care to go downstairs and join the rest of us for lunch?"

"No, not right now. I would like to be alone, and think for a while." But before Cogsworth left his room, Lumiere came to him and gave him an awkward side hug on his shoulder.

Cogsworth headed downstairs. Roast beef _a jus_ sandwiches were being made, and they smelled delightful.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12- The Enchantress on the Move

Foiled by the presence of the LaBarres patrolling in the vicinity of the castle, the Enchantress Delphine was weary from being in hiding. She was anxious and desperate to curse someone, anyone.

On foot, still incognito as a little old woman, she decided to trek through the worn wagon path that led through the woods, and entered the village. A light shawl covered her homely face as she wandered through the little dirt streets of Molyneux, listening to conversations on the way.

All banal talk, she thought, suitable for these lowly, peasant mortals. There were children running about, but none of them were doing anything that would warrant a trick or deception to set up for a curse. Her rule was to have a reason. It was to make them feel guilty and punished, just like she had done to her most delicious target, that incorrigible young Prince Adam.

Finally, Delphine stopped to sit and rest upon the large fountain in the village square. She was distracted by the high-pitched voices of three young blonde women, who were also sitting on the fountain, gossiping. She turned an alert ear to their trifling conversation.

"I'm bored, what should we do today?" said Mimi Beaudette.

"I don't know, but there is absolutely nothing to do here. I wish I could go visit the castle again, because that's where we met those cute fellows two weeks ago, at the royal ball!" replied Fifi.

"They were cute, Fifi, but not as cute as Gaston," offered Gigi, a tone of sadness in her voice.

Mimi became very sober. "Remember what I told you… what Luc told me? About that night?"

The sisters recoiled in horror. "Mimi, please don't talk about that," said Fifi, her voice breaking.

"But it was so nice of them. They were the only ones from that place who treated him with respect!" Mimi pleaded with her sisters. "Why can't we talk about it? And I wish we could talk to those guards again, not just because they'd be good for a date, but because they can tell us more about…"

"DON'T, Mimi! Just stop!" Fifi screeched.

Mimi had learned from Luc during the bonfire out in the grounds on the night of the royal wedding that he, his brother Noel, and their two fellow guards Jean and Yann, had been the ones to find and recover Gaston's body. Luc had told her the tale while he had been quite imbued with wine, wishing to impress the pretty girl with his noble acts. The four guards- as two muskets, an arrow, and a sword, had been shirking their duties hunting in the woods, and as they started to return to the castle late that night, they had been astonished to find themselves suddenly transformed into their real human state.

When they reached the southwest corner of the castle closest to the woods, they found a young man's broken and lifeless form. They had not recognized him as their own, so early the next morning, they brought the body in a wagon down to the village church, which was the right and proper thing to do. After doing their duty, they quickly left town for fear of repercussions. Of course, Luc wisely left out the part that he had once existed as a floating arrow.

"But I wanted to know if he might have been still alive when Luc found him! I wanted to ask what his last words were! I am sure his last word was my name!" sobbed Mimi.

"No, maybe it was _my_ name!" screeched Fifi.

"Are you _idiots_? If any girl's name was his last word, or his last thought, it was that stupid, stupid Belle! You know that as well as I!" Gigi seethed at her sisters. "And now she's Little Miss Princess, married to Prince High-and-Mighty-Adam. Sure he's a looker, but he is no Gaston, I tell you! And Gaston killed that Beast and got the Prince's home back. Gaston rescued all of his servants and got rid of all the creepy whatever-it-was that was haunting the castle! _Remember_ what the guys told us? Chairs were jumping around by themselves, poor old Jacques got slammed in a bureau, Lefou saw a demon-possessed candle…thingy, and got stabbed, of course who cares, but _that is what happened_! And we saw how nice the palace is now! All because of the night that Gaston went on his quest, and now we know he really did it! He died for that place as well as protecting all of us from that Beast. And does Belle even care about what Gaston did? Did she and her father even bother to attend his funeral? No!"

Gigi's pretty face was twisted in anger, her blue eyes swimming in bitter tears.

Delphine's ears perked up. She was intensely interested now in what the young women were discussing, particularly at the mention of Prince Adam. Apparently, the girls were not well fond of the Princess. And they were deluded in the belief that some village man had been responsible for the breaking of the curse. _Well, let them believe that_, she thought. Adam breaking the curse was one of her deepest humiliations.

Yet still, she was looking for someone vulnerable to trick into a curse, and these three were mighty tempting. They were well-grown, probably around twenty, but they were grief-stricken and shaken. _Easy targets_, she thought. They also appeared to her to be very shallow and quite vapid, from the tone of their conversation.

Delphine got up and slowly shuffled away, unseen. She wandered over to a nearby privy, looking every bit the role of a mortal, elderly peasant. Inside the privy, she looked through a crack in the door, watching over the three sisters to make sure they were still in sight. She then made quite a few adjustments to her physical appearance. She also conjured up a red rose.

Mimi, Fifi and Gigi were still sitting on the fountain, tossing pebbles in it. Their conversation had shifted from Gaston, and the enchantments, to more gossip.

"…think she might be his girlfriend, she's actually not even half-bad looking, still she's a cow, big childbearing hips…"

"Imagine him having kids?"

The triplets were twittering with laughter when a little troll-like man approached them. He was pathetically ugly, with great monkey-like ears, a hunched back, and liver spots on his face. He held a red rose in one twisted little hand.

"Good day, lovely ladies. Will you accept this rose from me?"

Fifi and Mimi smirked, and glanced over at Gigi. "Sure, why not?" Gigi replied.

_Confound it_, thought Delphine. She, or rather _he_, gripped the rose. "I want you to walk with me to put this rose on your dear friend's grave."

Fifi sniffed. "Why walk with _you_? Why don't you just give us the rose, and we will take it to his grave ourselves?"

"No kidding!" mocked Gigi. "The churchyard is way up the hill, and who are _you_ to want to come with us? You are just a creepy little troll, and how could you know Gaston, anyway?"

The insult was all that Delphine needed. In a blinding glow of light, right in the middle of the fountain, unseen to other villagers but very well seen to the triplets, the trollish man changed into a tall, beautiful blonde woman in a green dress.

"You are so quick to insult, aren't you, young ladies! You may be beautiful and alluring but on the inside you are empty and shallow!"

The sisters' mouths dropped open in shock. They had no idea what, or who, she could be. She wasn't from around Molyneux, that was for sure. And what had caused this hallucination? Did someone slip something in their tea that morning?

Delphine quickly waved a long wooden wand at the young women.

Their skin changed color from a lovely alabaster ivory to, in Gigi's case, a blood-rash dark red, in Fifi's, a sickly moss green, and in Mimi's, a plum purple. Their golden blonde hair changed to match the colors of their skin, as well.

The sisters looked at each other and screamed in terror, covering their faces and running down the main street in utter mortification.

Delphine swiftly rushed back to the privy, where she changed back into her default old-woman form again, and set out down the street, cackling merrily to herself.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13- Gaston's Spin-Doctor

Around the same time that day, in the tavern, Lefou was in his usual habit of taking time to confide in a solitary monologue in front of Gaston's portrait. Recently, the topic of his confessions had to do with the woman who was on the forefront of his mind. He would never, ever, dream up the courage to tell her how he felt about her. Whenever Sophie showed up at the tavern to chat in her sweet and friendly way, he had been reduced to a stuttering mess. Since the royal ball, he had lost the ability to put a sentence together around her.

He realized, though, that in all his mutterings to the portrait, at least _it_ listened. The real, living Gaston wouldn't have cared an iota. After all, in their one-sided friendship, everything had _always_ been about Gaston.

The last few weeks, he'd been through a myriad of emotional ups and downs. Sophie had appeared literally as an angel, who had brought tidings of what had actually occurred the night that Gaston died. She'd confirmed that Gaston_ had_ slaughtered the Beast, and the castle servants were set free, as well as the Prince getting his castle back. The mystery had been solved. He still couldn't fathom why Belle would even befriend that Beast or why she, all of a sudden, married the Prince in a whirlwind courtship.

But that didn't really matter anymore. The evening after Sophie had bought the ale and relayed the story to him firsthand, the customers came, as usual, to the tavern. They typically didn't care to listen to anything that Lefou said, but he managed to make an impassioned plea. They _owed_ it, he appealed to the other men, to Gaston's memory to attend the wedding and see for themselves the result of Gaston's final, glorious victory. And it worked, the men relented. Sure enough, around a corner table in the ballroom that evening, Jacques, Gilles, Stanley, and several other village men had sat and waxed eloquent toasts and odes to Gaston, the fallen hero of Molyneux.

"Gaston," mused Lefou, gazing up at the painting of the magnificent, red-clad legend, "if you were here right now, you'd probably chuck me into that barrel or give me a knot on my head, but I have to tell you that I wouldn't do with Sophie what you tried to do with Belle. You were, um… a little too forceful! Maybe…if you hadn't acted like that, you could have gotten Belle?" He almost winced at the portrait, imagining the reaction.

"Oh, _forget_ that! Who cares what I would have done, you were _you _and you were the greatest! Oh, Gaston! You were and will always be the best hunter, the best hero, in the whole world!"

His voice broke a bit, and Gaston's features distorted in a watery blur. At that moment, the door opened. Lefou expected it to possibly be Sophie again, and tried to man up. Instead, it was his older sister, Iolanthe.

"A-ha!" she thundered. "You are doing it again, talking to a dead man's picture! I really did not want to be turning my own little brother in to the Maison Des Lunes, but I think it's come to that. He's dead, get over it! And talking to his picture ain't gonna bring him back! Yeah, it's the Maison Des Lunes. I'll wait a bit, though. No one really cares since we all know you're an _ignoramus,_ anyway, but…"

A second woman came into the tavern. This time, it _was_ Sophie, carrying a shopping basket. She'd heard every word.

"Why don't you just _shut up _already?" she told Iolanthe in her typical sweet tone, which had a bit of an edge. "So what if he talks to Gaston's picture, it doesn't hurt anyone!"

Lefou stood there mortified. He was used to his older sister's shrewish behavior, but not in front of Sophie.

Iolanthe scowled at the younger woman. Sophie strode up to the wall next to Gaston's portrait, and gave it a friendly wave. "Good afternoon, Gaston, you handsome devil, you!" She turned back to Lefou's sister. "Oh, look! Now you can go put _both_ of us in the asylum!"

Iolanthe gave both a killer glare, and exited the tavern with a huff.

"What was _that_ all about?" Sophie asked Lefou, trying to let him know that she thought Iolanthe was the crazy one, not him. She hoped he hadn't thought she was mocking him by what she had just said.

"Oh, nothing." He tried to stack some bottles. A few tipped over.

"I picked up some baguettes from Marie. Want some?"

"Um…sure."

Sophie looked along the wall in curiosity. There was just about every kind of animal that existed there, their carcasses mounted on the walls in clusters. She examined one of them. It was an odd mix of a small deer, a raccoon, and maybe some other creature. Looking closer at it, she noticed that there were stitches of sewing thread in it. Apparently, it was three different animal pelts, sewn creatively together.

"Ignatius, can you tell me about _this _one? When did Gaston shoot it?"

Lefou's face lit up, his embarrassment forgotten. "He got it last fall! It's a bunchaglomp! The rarest animal in the forest. Wanna hear the story?"

"Sure I would. I'd like nothing better than to hear it." Sophie smiled at him.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14- Reunion or Despair?

Back in the castle on the very same sunny Sunday afternoon, a still-hurting Babette was furiously dusting Adam and Belle's great library. It was the only thing that was helping her to keep her mind in the dull, numbed, neutral state she preferred.

She had lugged a ladder from the storage room all the way to the library, and was dusting every single book she could manage to reach on the middle shelves. The topmost shelves near the ceiling- why, she could never find a ladder tall enough to reach those books. _How did Adam ever get them up there_, she wondered, then remembering that as the Beast, he had the great ability to leap and climb despite his enormous size.

She needed this big job to tackle. Babette decided that since she was one of the only maids light and limber enough to do it, she would venture to climb the shelves in order to dust the books. She stood on the very top of the ladder and put a booted foot on the shelf.

She also realized that the duster she held was way too short. There was one with a longer handle, but it wasn't in the library at the time. She froze in this position, one foot on the ladder and one on a shelf, debating whether or not to go back down the ladder, back into the storage room, and get the longer-handled duster.

"Babette."

She looked down, and waves of pain burst through her soul. It was Lumiere. The ladder started to wobble, and she put her foot back on it in fear that it would tip.

"We really need to talk, darling."

"Darling my foot, Francois! What could we possibly talk about? We are only colleagues now. Just go ride your horse if you have nothing else to do!"

"Can I at least help you dust the bookshelves?"

"NO!"

"Please come down off that ladder. I beg you." He walked over to the towering ladder.

"I have work to do."

"All right, I have no choice but to come up after you." He begin to climb up the old, rickety wooden ladder, and in a matter of seconds he reached the level right below her feet. She swiftly kicked his nose.

"OW!" He almost fell, but held on resolutely to the ladder. "Please forgive me, Babette, and accept my proposal of marriage. I love you, Babette Cecile Claremboux!" he declared in a fast flurry of words. He was amazed that they actually came out.

Babette stood there on the top of the ladder in a state of shock. She was certainly hearing things. She'd given up almost two weeks ago on the thought of those words ever coming out of that stubborn man's mouth. She was positive she didn't hear that right. The air _must _be getting thin up here, near the top bookshelves.

"_What did you just say?_ Are you trying to play some kind of game? If you think it's funny, forget it!" She kicked at his ear this time, and he did fall, tumbling to the ornate Persian rug in a heap. Rubbing his head, he determinedly sat up.

"BABETTE! I MEAN IT! I sincerely, utterly, undeniably mean it! Cogsworth was right! I didn't mean to hurt you! I really do want to marry you, _ma cherie_! Please!"

Babette stood on the ladder trying to get a grip on reality. She heard the words, but they were not registering. Her heart in the last twelve to fourteen days had slowly been building up an iron wall around it, surrounded by an additional brick and mortar layer of businesslike automation. The tall slim _maitre 'd_ with the long nose, laughing eyes, and receding brown hair had started to appear in her mind as a stranger, as if the real Francois who loved her had jumped ship and his twin had shown up as his mocking shell, avoiding her as she avoided him.

She looked down at the perceived Francois-imposter. His face was gazing up at her with a pleading look and the eyes were neither mirthful nor cold, but serious and soft.

"I don't have a ring for you yet, but Prince Adam is ordering a coach for me to take a trip to Paris, to take a break to visit my father. He thinks I need it. I'll either go alone, or you can come with me. We can get married in my family's old church. Just you and me, alone. Five days. I am leaving in the morning, Babette. The choice is yours."

It took several moments for each word to register into her brain, and after the entire utterance stewed in her mind for a minute, the brick and mortar in her heart started to crumble, and the iron had to melt down as well. The entire process took some time, and as Lumiere watched Babette tottering at the top of the ladder, her face expressionless, gazing first at him, then out the window, he felt panic and despair. It was the moment of truth, and he feared that this may be the moment he was losing her for good.

Finally, after an agonizing two or three minutes, her expression changed to a warm and gentle smile. She slowly descended the ladder and reaching the Persian rug, she took his hand and helped him off the floor.

"I choose to go, Francois."

They embraced in a way they had never embraced before. No more playing pretend, no more loose ends, no more what-ifs anymore. Francois Lumiere was thirty six years old and he'd spent way too much time in dalliance. He'd finally realized that his job as a _maitre'd_ at the castle was permanent, not just a stepping stone to something greater that would never materialize. A life as a singer in the great music halls of Paris was not what it was cracked up to be, anyway.

With things the way they had turned out with Adam and Belle, he never cared anymore to venture anywhere else, or do anything greater than what he had right here. He'd thought if Babette wasn't going to be his, he'd have to move on. But now, she was.

A sound of running and pattering footsteps broke their concentration. Chip, Mirielle, Cogsworth, and Pippa were racing down the hallway in front of the library's entryway. They had finished school lessons and were playing a game of hide-and-seek, the two adults clutching their sides and panting in exhaustion.

"Cogsworth!" Lumiere and Babette called out in unison.

Cogsworth stuck his head in the library's entryway. His face brightened at the sight of his best friend embracing his longtime former sweetheart, kissing her dark head as he'd used to, and he couldn't help pumping a fist in the air and exclaiming, "YES!"

"We are going to Paris tomorrow! And coming back as man and wife!" Lumiere beamed.

The four entered the library and surrounded the couple with joyous congratulations and hugs. Pippa also hugged Cogsworth in the process, a rather long hug, burying her face into his shoulder. Her chestnut hair smelled like perfumed soap, and he quipped, "Mademoiselle Davis, if that is Yardley, I am afraid my skin will look like a raspberry for a day or two, I warn you, the rash is horrid to look at."

"I would hardly mind, I happen to like raspberries." Pippa retorted, smiling up at him.

"You two are so lucky! Paris! I want to see the Cathedral of Notre Dame someday! I have never been there, and only have seen it in books!" said Mirielle.

"Mirielle, I promise that someday you can come see it. I will certainly bring you a souvenir. How does a new porcelain doll sound?"

"Wonderful!" Mirielle beamed.

"Can you bring me some candy?" asked Chip.

"We will find you just about every kind of candy you could possibly imagine," Lumiere replied.

The group skipped down the flight of stairs (Chip sliding down the golden banister) until they found Mrs. Potts and Maurice, and the entire group could not wait for Adam and Belle, so they all raced across the great hall to the West Wing, knocking on doors. Finally, Cogsworth hit pay dirt with the door to Adam's favorite sitting room.

"Your Grace?"

"We're coming!" came Belle's voice from inside. In seconds, the royal couple opened the door, and one look on Babette's face filled Belle's heart with joyful relief. She and Adam had been on pins and needles, waiting for the verdict on their two dear friends and their romantic fate.

The crowd of eight descended on the dining hall and just about every bottle of wine and ale was brought out, Mrs. Potts putting tea on and Maurice setting out a wheel of cheese that Thierry had created from the milk of Maurice's fine, new cow, whom he had named Bernadette. Late into that afternoon and into the evening, as more servants came in, they were all greeted with the happy news.

Another celebration of life, and love, had come that day to Prince Adam and Belle's palace.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15- Paris-Bound, Tea Talk, and Art Lessons

The next morning, which was cloudy and threatening to rain, a grand stagecoach arrived early to whisk Lumiere and Babette off on their wedding trip to Paris. Belle, Adam, and a decent-sized crowd of servants saw them off. They looked so happy, and it gave Belle such a great relief after two weeks of the couple having been on the outs.

Lumiere was dressed up in his best traveling cloak and hat, and Babette wore her plum-purple velvet gown and a gaily feathered bonnet. They waved farewell to their master, mistress, and colleagues from inside the window of the cozy, plush stagecoach, and departed. They were to return the next Sunday, married. A little celebration- nothing elaborate, Babette insisted- was to be planned on their return.

Back inside the main dining hall near the kitchen, the crowd sat down for tea after breakfast, in a cheery mood. Mrs. Potts, Belle, and Adam sat at one table, and Cogsworth, Pippa, Chip and Mirielle sat in another table near them. Maurice, meanwhile, was out milking Bernadette.

Chip was grumbling a bit, in a whining tone, about the rain coming, which would cancel the carriage ride and picnic at the stream that Pippa and Cogsworth planned.

"Now what are we going to do, Mademoiselle Davis? I will be _boooored_! Can we play hide and seek again? Or chase the dog up and down the stairs?"

"Why don't we spend all day in the library, reading?" suggested Mirielle.

"No way! I am only going to do reading and arithmetic today, and then I want to play!" argued Chip.

"Children!" scolded Cogsworth. "How about after lessons, we can do some painting. Would you mind giving them an art lesson, today, Mademoiselle?" he asked Pippa.

"Certainly, Mr. Cogsworth. That sounds like a lovely idea." Pippa said. "I know painting is messy, however, and you two will have to promise to help clean your mess up."

"And don't get any paint on my coat," said Cogsworth.

"Oh, no, you wouldn't want to do that. Mr. Cogsworth, you look _really_ handsome in that black frock coat. I mean it." Pippa told him, blushing a little. "Perhaps you should wear an older shirt or coat. You have never been around youngsters painting, before, I think."

The children agreed that that would be a pleasant thing to do on this rainy day. Cogsworth nodded at Pippa, and together they ushered the children upstairs into the library for tutoring.

As they left, a few other servants entered the dining area. Sophie came in, quite later than she usually did. As soon as Mrs. Potts, Maurice, Adam and Belle saw her, they noticed she wasn't her bubbly, cheerful self. She looked distraught, and her eyes were red as if she'd been crying.

"Why, what happened to our little Sophie Sunshine this morning?" Adam teased. "Come have some breakfast."

"I'm not hungry." Her voice was flat, nearly a whisper.

"I know what is wrong. It's raining and you cannot drive the supply wagon to Molyneux today, so you are just as bored as Chip is." Adam offered.

Sophie's face fell in sadness at that remark. Belle was surprised, she'd never seen the short, plump blonde little maid in anything other than an ebullient state of sugar-high. Something was certainly wrong.

"Come sit down for a spot of tea," said Mrs. Potts, her usual remedy for everything. "Excuse my curiosity, but would it happen to do with the young man you have been spending time with at the village?"

Sophie sat down near Mrs. Potts' side and nodded slowly, sighing.

"Have you ever… have you ever gotten to know someone, and he is just the sweetest, cutest, most darling man you have ever met, and… you find yourself falling in love with him, but then…you find out he is actually bloodthirsty and cruel?" Sophie confided.

"Now dear, what would he do that would make him all of a sudden bloodthirsty and cruel?" asked Mrs. Potts.

"He said a horrible thing, Mrs. Potts…" Sophie glanced at Adam and Belle- "he said a horrible, disgusting thing… about Prince Adam!" She dabbed at her eye with her apron.

"_Moi_?" said Adam, lightheartedly, gesturing at his chest.

"Go on," said Mrs. Potts, gently.

Belle sat quietly. She was the only one of the group who had a pretty good inkling of what was going to be said, but she refrained to comment.

"Well, it's like this. Ignatius is very fond of Gaston's old hunting trophies at the tavern. He misses him of course, so the trophies are a part of him. Anyway, he was telling stories about them, at first he was being so cute, talking about bunchaglomps and stuff like that-" (the rest of them furrowed their foreheads quizzically) "but then, he asked me about what became of the Beast's body! I said there was no body. He said that he really wished that the body could have been found, because he would have wanted the Beast's head mounted on his tavern wall! To celebrate the 'last victory of Gaston,' he said. But to me, that means he wanted _Prince Adam's_ head mounted on his wall! It made me sick! How could he say something so cruel and horrible?"

Sophie pulled her white apron to her face and buried her eyes in it.

Belle finally spoke. "Sophie, you must realize that the villagers see this whole thing, about the Beast," she looked at Adam and lovingly patted his hand- "as a story very different from the way _we_ see it. I think it is best that they believe it the way they do, because, um…, it's complicated. So they all- Lefou especially- believe it was all about Gaston. They do worship him as a hero, and they are blind to the whole 'Adam equals Beast' thing, but that is our secret. Now, I never really knew Lefou that well myself, to be honest. I never talked to him alone, like you do. I've always only seen him hanging at Gaston's side, like an accessory of sorts."

Belle sighed. "Perhaps he does have a deeper personality than I thought. I am certain he didn't mean it to be cruel, or bloodthirsty. Well... maybe he did, but, it's because they just saw the Beast as another fearful creature..."

"I was so furry and lovable, wasn't I?"

"Yes, Adam. But you see, it is just the way of the village men. I think you should still talk to him. He would do good to learn to see things in a different light, besides the 'Gaston-was-wonderful' mindset. He needs a nice girl like you, too." Belle smiled, and patted the maid's shoulder. Sophie raised her reddened face from her apron, deep in thought.

"Or, _I_ could possibly go into the village with my ornamental sword and present it to your gentleman friend, and he could do the job himself if he covets my head," quipped Adam, making a throat-slash pantomime.

"Adam, it's not funny," Belle gently scolded. "Come, Sophie, let's walk about the East Wing together. It seems you have been getting a distorted opinion about our _dear departed_ friend Gaston. You see, he had been a suitor of mine."

"Really?" Sophie's red-rimmed, blue-green eyes widened with shock. "Sorry, but that sounds _so_ weird. He didn't seem like your type at all!"

"Well, he wasn't. I was not interested, and he was trying to force me to marry him. It was quite an unpleasant story, but for your friend Ignatius' sake, I better tell you about what went on and the type of character Gaston really was." Belle took a deep breath, trying hard to not let her real feelings about the monstrous man show. He was dead, after all, and perhaps it was time to let it go.

"Not that he was all-_around-_evil, more..." Belle carefully chose her words- "_misguided_ actually, but he, um… he was a _character_, let's just say that." Belle and Sophie walked together into the East Wing.

Adam was still chuckling to himself, amused. That madman Gaston had certainly wanted to do him in, and he secretly was thankful that the villager had done what he did to set the events in motion. He wondered if he would still be in the condition he was then if that night had not happened, right as the last rose petal fell. He had given up hope of Belle confessing love for him, he'd let her go, and time had been running out. The horror of that night was dimmed for him, however, in the light of his current happiness.

Cogsworth and Pippa spent the morning in the library with Mirielle and Chip. After their reading and arithmetic lessons, Pippa got out her art supplies and they went into the dining hall with large sheets of parchment, painting pictures all afternoon.

"Well done, Chip!" said Pippa. "I do think you have got Mr. Cogsworth's profile spot on!"

Cogsworth looked at Chip's painting. "I think it rather looks like a pear, but-" Pippa gave him a warning look- "nice job, Charles."

"At least you don't look like a raspberry today." Pippa teased him. "The soap I like to use is indeed Yardley, by the way. Would you care to borrow some?"

"Oh, no no no!" said Cogsworth, shaking his head. Pippa leaned in a little closer to him.

"Whatever you use to trim your mustache and shave with is very fragrant, I must say."

Cogsworth went beet red. "Only the best products for a fine man such as George A. Cogsworth! After all, when I answer the door or serve the Prince and Princess, I make sure that as a majordomo, I must keep myself as fragrant as a bouquet of spring lilacs. Lumiere should take a lesson from me, I'd like to throw that putrid pipe of his into the rubbish bin!" he boasted. Pippa giggled merrily.

"Your given name is George, is it?" said Pippa. "I like that name."

"You may call me by it if you would like," said Cogsworth, still a little pink-faced.

"I will if you call me Pippa. Or Phillipa, as I sometimes go by. But I prefer just plain Pippa." She looked him straight in the eyes. Cogsworth averted his gaze and glanced at the parchment that Pippa was casually painting on herself. She'd painted a tree, creating light and dark shades in the leaves by dabbing bits of dark and light greens along with white, to create a striking effect. "That is quite a masterpiece you have here, Pippa," he complimented.

"Oh, that's just my dabbling around. I'd like to take time to create a really good painting if I have the chance."

"I would love to see the _artiste_ at work." He winked at her. "Perhaps, we can talk about it over dinner tonight? Would you care to dine… alone with me in the…servants' sitting room? Lumiere and I sometimes go there to play cards at the tables." He was surprised that that request came out as smoothly as it did. He'd been wondering how to phrase it casually.

Pippa's face brightened. "Oh…George, of course I would love to!"

"Seven o'clock, then?"

"Splendid!" They exchanged warm smiles.

"_Chip_!" Mirielle screeched. "You dumped paint all over the floor! I am not cleaning that up, you are."

"Sorry, Mirielle, it was just an accident! I was trying to reach the yellow!"

Pippa went to another table and grabbed a bucket of soapy water and some rags. As a nanny, she was well-prepared. "Here you go, Charles, tidy up. Mirielle, I love your horse! Is it Antoinette or Phillipe?"

"It's the pony I am going to have someday. No horse in particular."

"Well done, Mirielle. After we tidy up, we will have lunch, and you can spend the rest of the day in the library. Chip, you may play with some of the games I have in my room."

"Great! Thanks!" replied the two children.

As the foursome came into the dining hall later that day, Mrs. Potts and Maurice couldn't help but admire how much they looked like such a little family on their own.

"Speaking of family, Emmeline, two more weeks for us!" said Maurice happily.

"I know, dear. It will be so nice." Mrs. Potts replied. "Would you like some more cream with that?"

"_Merci, ma cherie_," replied Maurice.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16- The Chase

In one of the better cottages in Molyneux, the Beaudette sisters had sequestered themselves at home for four days, never venturing out. They spent most of their time covering their faces with blankets, crying, and trying out different types of soaps, scrub brushes, and creams to get their skin and hair colors back to normal. Nothing worked. It was hopeless, and Mimi, Gigi and Fifi feared that they were fated to look like oddities for the rest of their lives. Their mother, Lea, mourned with them too, for the fear that they would certainly remain at home now as spinsters, and worse yet, objects of rude stares and whispers.

* * *

><p>The same morning, on the castle grounds, the sorcerers Fabien, Bastien, and Benoit LaBarre had come to the fact that they had no recent detection of the whereabouts of their quarry, the Enchantress Delphine. Their wands picked up no auras, and the magical trail had gone cold.<p>

They were riding their horses along the west side of the castle, and passed by the youngest maid, Mirielle, carrying a large box of junk toward a ravine pit in the woods. She was performing her weekly chore of taking out the rubbish. As the wizards rode past her, they tipped their hats in greeting.

"Bonjour, petit mademoiselle," said Fabien politely.

"Bonjour, monsieurs," replied Mirielle.

Fabien happened to glance inside the box, and he spotted a glint of something catching the sun's rays. He did a double take.

"Mademoiselle, would you mind if we look inside that box?"

Mirielle was puzzled as to why these elegantly dressed men would want to look inside a box of rubbish, but she agreed. She set the box down in the grass. Fabien quickly jumped off his horse and reached in.

It was the magic mirror that Adam and Belle had used months before, broken and cracked in nearly its entire surface.

"Pardon me, but may I have this?"

"Sure, monsieur, you may, if you want it. We don't need it anymore, it's broken. I think I saw Prince Adam throwing it away a long time ago, it's been at the bottom of the rubbish bin for over a month."

Fabien studied the cracked mirror in his hands. "It is genuine," he told his sons in a secretive tone. "Merci, mademoiselle! Have a good day." He climbed back on his horse, and as fast as lightning, the three men rode away at a gallop.

When they reached a thicket of trees, out of the sight of mortals, the sorcerors studied the mirror. Fabien muttered a spell, and the mirror mended itself, shiny and new. He cleared his throat.

"Show us Delphine!"

The mirror's surface glowed, and a fuzzy image appeared, and sharpened. A homely old woman in a shawl was sitting near a fountain. There wasn't much of a background to see, but it appeared to be a village square, with buildings nearby. It was vaguely familiar to the LaBarres, since they had passed through the village perhaps once or twice before on their witchhunt.

Fabien pocketed the mirror, and he, his sons, as well as their horses, disappeared from the thicket in a flash of blue glowing light.

Mirielle had taken the rest of the rubbish out, and meandered around the perimeter of the castle, to the front gate. It was a lovely, sunny day, now near the end of April. She hoped to take a carriage ride with Cogsworth, Pippa, and Chip later on. Looking down the trail from the front gate, she saw a large wagon approaching, pulled by two enormous horses with jingling bells on their bridles, the sound reminding her of Christmas.

The horses were immense, handsome Clydesdales, and the large but crude wagon was filled with crates of something. She glanced up at the driver, a short pudgy man in a well-worn coat and a simple brown hat.

"Bonjour! I got a delivery here." It was Lefou. "Ale and beer for… another wedding here, I guess?"

"Oh, yes, Monsieur, that would be for _two_ wedding celebrations, actually!" Mirielle answered joyfully. "There are two couples at the castle getting married!"

"Oh- who are the lucky brides?"asked Lefou. He was a bit nervous and troubled for a second.

"Two maids... Mademoiselle Babette, and Mrs. Potts!"

He was relieved. "Well, give 'em all my best! I'm gonna bring this wagon on to the back door. Say… could you tell Sophie I'd like to talk to her? I'm the tavern keeper. She'll know. Oh, and maybe… could you get Maurice? Monsieur DeFleur, I mean."

"Sure!" Mirielle raced inside to the kitchen. She was excited at the prospect of two wedding parties within two weeks of each other, not to mention her twelfth birthday coming up. Although the goods in the man's wagon were nothing of interest to her, she knew there would be more cake, music, and celebrations in the near future, and that thrilled her young sensibilities.

Lefou parked his ale wagon at the back door. He had been forced to deliver the ten crates of ale on his own, because a certain maid had refused to stop into the tavern and talk to him for days. Michel and the guards appeared to unload the ale crates. While doing so, Luc, one of the guards, inquired Lefou about a girl named Mimi, who had sisters identical to her. He told him that he hoped to get to Molyneux sometime to see her, and to tell Mimi hello for him.

Finally, Maurice, dressed in tattered breeches and muddy boots suited for milking his cow, came out of the castle first. "Well, long time, no see. Now what would _you_ need to talk to a crazy old loon like _me_ about?" He was asking him in a jovial manner, but it thinly veiled his old hurt feelings.

Lefou turned serious and looked at Maurice respectfully. "About your work, Maurice. I know you're good at inventing- building stuff. I need someone- a smart guy- who knows how to build a _really big_ distillery for brewing. Name your price."

Maurice crossed his arms for a minute and thought. "Fifty francs."

"Deal!"

Sophie came out next, her arms crossed, and looking annoyed. Her breath caught, however, when she saw the Clydesdales. She had always loved horses, and Clydesdales were a breed she'd only seen in books. She would give anything to drive a wagon pulled by such majestic creatures.

"Oh! Ignatius, how on earth-"

"I'm sorry, Sophie! I take it all back! I wish I hadn't said it!" pleaded Lefou. "I'm sorry about what I said about the Beast… I'm sure that, um…_it_ had feelings too! Do you wanna… take a drive to the tavern with me? I _have_ to show you something! Please?"

Sophie, her arms still crossed, pondered for a moment. He sure was difficult to resist perched up in that wagon, what with that adorable brown hat of his and those boyish, pleading dark eyes. She thought of an ultimatum, however.

"Okay. I'll go out with you. But- you _can't_ say that name around me today!"

"What name?"

"You know- Gaston! You can't talk about Gaston, or hunting, or trophies! Is it at _all_ possible? I mean, he can't rule your life anymore, sorry, but… I don't think he was all that nice to you…"

He looked for a moment as if she'd spoken a blasphemy, but considered her request.

"Okay! I promise!"

Sophie stepped forward to the two huge brown and white draft horses, putting a hand to their long silky manes in admiration. "They're so beautiful! How did you- never mind, did you name them at all?"

"No, I'm no good at thinking up names. Maybe you can?"

"I will help you think of some," she said grinning, as she climbed up on the wagon buckboard. Lefou offered to let her hold the reins. Delighted, she gave them a shake, and they headed off to Molyneux. The other scullery maids and cooks were relieved to see her going to the village again, since she was the least competent in the kitchen, usually spilling something or cutting her own finger.

* * *

><p>In Molyneux, meanwhile, the LaBarres appeared in an instant in the middle of the village square. Mounted on their horses, they slowly circled the fountain. The little old lady, however, was no longer there.<p>

Benoit looked up and down the street, and spotted a little figure in a dingy shawl.

"There she is!"

They set off on a pacing gait, magically silencing the horses from making clopping noises on the hard soil of the simple village street. The old hag turned around, however, and seeing them, quickened her pace and rounded a corner.

"Follow her!"

They spurred their horses and quickened to a trot. Rounding the same corner, they found no sign of her.

"Father, the Mirror!" shouted Bastien.

Fabien consulted his new Magic Mirror, and the image sprang up. "She's in… what appears to be something called a privy- the thing that the mortals use-"

"We know what it is, Father! Let's make haste!" said Bastien. "Split up!"

The three wizards took off in different directions, and attracted quite a few odd looks from the villagers. Marie Desjardins couldn't help but stare at the fine-looking men from the bakery window. She wondered if they were from Prince Adam's court, and hoped they'd take a minute to stop in for a baguette.

Fabien kept checking the Mirror. "She's changed her appearance! She's now a he… the form of a peculiar-looking little man, rather like a troll!"

"Where is her location, Father? A privy, still?" Bastien asked from the opposite side of the street.

"_Non_. A building. Someone's cottage, perhaps? I do not know, we must begin knocking on doors!"

They tied their horses and continued on foot, knocking on cottage doors. Although they were in a desperate hurry, they needed to slow down and look official. They posed as police, which they were, but not in the type the villagers were familiar with. Many were not home, but for those who were, the wizards repeatedly gave the descriptions of the little old lady and the trollish man. None of the villagers were able to remember or identify the suspect.

After a while, they came to the door of the Beaudette family, and knocked, as they had, on dozens of doors before them. Madame Lea Beaudette answered.

"Pardon the interruption, Madame, but we are police on official business. We are looking for a very elderly woman, suspected of disturbing the peace and of assault. She is about eighty or more years of age, stooped, skeletal, with an unusually large hooked nose, spots on her face, and is wearing a torn and stained brown shawl."

"I am sorry; Monsieurs, but I cannot help you." Lea replied. She looked back at her daughters in the main room. They were sitting hunched over on chairs, holding large books in front of their faces. She was embarrassed for them, particularly because the men were so handsome. She began to shut the door on them.

"Pardon me, Madame, but we also have to describe the second suspect." Fabien insisted, taking a quick glance at the Magic Mirror. "A little hunchback man with giant ears, rather like a monkey, an enormous nose, spots on his face, holding a flower…"

"WAIT!" screamed Gigi. She didn't stand up, or put the book down from her face. "We saw someone like that a few days ago! He did something _terrible_ to us!"

The three wizards entered the cottage. "Tell us, mademoiselle! What did sh-_ he_ do to you?" demanded Fabien.

The girls would not budge or take the books away from their faces. They huddled, whimpering, in embarrassment and shame.

"This is official police business," Fabien told them, in his authoritative tone. "I must ask you young ladies to please put the books down and show your faces."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17- The Triplets on the Witchhunt

The sisters continued to huddle under their books for another minute. Gigi, her voice muffled from behind her mother's volume of pork and beef recipes, finally spoke.

"Promise you won't laugh, or run away from us?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle. But you must show us what happened to you. It is absolutely urgent that you three help us catch these criminals."

Gigi, Mimi and Fifi stood, and slowly lowered the books from their faces, revealing their red, green and purple faces and matching hair. Fabien and his sons kept their promise. Instead of laughing, smirking, or looking horrified as the triplets feared, they looked at each other and nodded in some sort of agreement.

"Just as I suspected," said Fabien. "'_Peau de Arc en Ceil_.'* It's not a difficult one to reverse, but we must capture her first. Ladies, you need to come out with us."

"Did you say you could cure this?" asked Fifi in a desperate voice.

"We cannot on our own, but it can be done. But you have to come with us _immediately,_ if you want to look your normal, lovely selves again. Trust us."

The triplets followed the sorcerors out the door and into the street. They walked quite clumsily for the fact they had, again, raised the books tightly in front of their heads. Bastien tried to gently grab Fifi's arm to lower it. "You need to look around to see if you can spot him!"

"We said we'd come with! We _didn't_ say we would uncover ourselves!" screeched Fifi in angry embarrassment.

"Well, at least _try _to peek around your books, ladies, and keep looking with us." Bastien answered, back in his cool, professional demeanor.

The six of them walked up and down the streets of Molyneux for some time, separating a little, circling the area of the fountain, the village square, the bakery and cheese shop, and around the perimeter of town.

Fabien kept checking in the Mirror, and when the little trollish man's image showed up, he had trouble identifying the background location, so he kept tucking the Mirror underneath one or the other of the triplets' books, near their eyes, to see if any of them recognized it.

Finally, Gigi spoke up. "Wait! Books! There are a lot of books behind him now. It _must_ be Monsieur Libre's shop!"

They were only a short distance away from the book shop now- right in front of the butcher's.

The LaBarres took to a fast steady walk, and the Beaudette sisters tried to quicken their pace and follow, still holding books in front of their faces. As they passed by Andre Desjardin's bakery, Marie curiously looked at them from the window, and shook her head.

"They really are funny girls," she said, as she rolled out bread dough.

Fabien, Bastien, and Benoit took no time in rushing into Monsieur Libre's shop. They ran through the little store and rounded a corner of shelves, where they spotted the little troll-like man, hiding behind it. Monsieur Libre, meanwhile, was standing at the front table, a little annoyed at the way the three had just surged, noisily, into his peaceful book store.

Fabien made certain he was out of Monsieur Libre's sight behind the shelf, pulled his wand out, and swiftly waved it like a whip at the troll man, who was looking at him with pure, unbridled hate. Ropes shot out of his wand like a fishing line, and they wrapped around the little hunch-back man's body in a matter of seconds.

"Give it up, Delphine!" shouted Bastien.

The triplets had entered the bookshop now, and dropped their books to the floor. Monsieur Libre stood staring at them in shock. Delphine, wrapped as tightly as a mummy in the ropes, started to transform into her true, beautiful, feminine form, stretching the ropes a bit tighter as she grew taller. Grunting, she tried to use her arm strength to get her wand out of her dress pocket. Benoit, seeing what she was doing, pointed a finger at her and her wand flew out of her dress pocket and into his hand.

It was all over.

Bastien took one of Delphine's arms and Benoit took the other and they escorted her out the bookstore, Fabien and the triplets following.

"Pardon the disturbance, Monsieur. Important business of keeping the peace in your fine village," Fabien told Monsieur Libre as he left.

"Now where did _that_ lady come from?" the bookseller wondered to himself when he was alone.

The six of them, with Delphine now in the sorcerors' custody, went behind the cheese shop building for privacy. Fabien, in his most official voice, begin to announce the formal charges to Delphine. But before he did, Benoit waved a hand at the Beaudette triplets, causing loud violin music to play inside their heads, and they covered their ears in annoyance. This was to protect the secrecy of magic law from mortals, but it also kept them from listening in on secrets they did not need to be in on.

"Delphine Dufresne, you are charged with performing numerous curses upon innocent mortals, the most serious charge being that of _Homme-Bête_ on His Majesty Prince Adam over ten years ago, as well as _Objecter _on seventy of his servants, and most recently, _Peau de Arc en Ceil_ on these three innocent mortal ladies here."

"As punishment, you will be taken immediately to Le Grande Merlin, where he will deal with you appropriately. Most likely, you will have your magic taken away for the period of ten years, and you will be held in the _Maison de Reformateur_ on probation, earning your magic back in stages. A more serious penalty, being banished to mortals for life, may be considered. You have a right to a Counsel Sorceror."

Delphine fell silent. Gigi, after the musical spell broke and she could hear again, spoke up.

"How can we be cured?" Her sisters pleaded along with her.

The sorcerors turned to Delphine. "Tell them how they can reverse the spell. A hasty cure will reduce your sentence!" demanded Fabien.

Delphine spoke up in a defeated voice, although her cold, icy beauty was still as intimidating as ever.

"I was going to give you the way to undo the curse, but you all ran away before I could say anything to you!"

She took a deep breath. "All right. All you must do to undo it- today- is find someone who had been fond of you, but you ignored for your shallowness. Give that person a sincere compliment, and a kiss. Then you will look as good as you did before."

With that pronouncement, Fabien, Bastien and Benoit, after graciously thanking the triplets for their valuable help, waved their wands, and they, as well as Delphine, vanished from behind the cheese shop building in a glow of blue light.

The triplets ran down the streets, trying to avoid the odd looks from passersby, in a mad frenzy.

"Who can we find who has liked us but we've ignored? _Lots _of guys! Claude? Remy? The blond Pierre? Where are they?" Fifi screeched, as they looked around desparately.

"I know! Let's get Lefou! He's always kind of liked us, I know it! The tavern's right there and he's _always_ working there now!" yelled Mimi. "Let's try! Come on!"

"Uhh… I don't think he'll like us looking like _this_, though!" said Gigi. "He scares pretty easily!"

Quick as deer, they bounded toward the entrance to the tavern, the door half open to catch the spring breeze. They barged in, and quickly eyed their target, who was standing near the bar counter, wiping it with a rag. He'd qualify, they agreed. They'd always ignored Lefou with mild disdain, not so much because he wasn't tall, or powerfully handsome, but more because of the fact that Gaston spent so much time with him that could have been better spent with them.

Lefou's eyes went round as saucers. "_Aaaugh_!... OOF!"

In an instant, he was tackled down to the tavern floor, flat on his back. The three girls pounced on him, and covered his stunned face with kisses.

"Lefou, I like your ale! It's so yummy!"

"I can hear you singing when you don't know we're by the door! I _like_ your singing!"

"Lefou, you have… nice eyebrows! Really, you do!"

He was in a state of stunned shock at these strange-colored ladies with rainbow hair tackling him, wondering what he'd put in the ale. In addition, nearly two months' relief from being thrown, punched, or shoved had made him sensitive to the bump on the back of his head from hitting the floor, and it seemed all the more painful.

Sophie came running from the back brewing room. She'd been helping him fill and cork bottles, just for the fun of it, after they'd gone out to the café earlier. Her mouth opened in fury.

"_Get off my boyfriend, you painted trollops!" _

Sophie didn't actually know what the word 'trollop' meant, she'd read it in a book, but it sounded right for the context.

Mimi, Gigi, and Fifi got off of him and stood up. "_Sorry!" "Wasn't what you think!" "Got to go_!" they yelled.

They could feel a warmth in their skin, and they rushed out of the tavern as fast as they'd rushed in. Their skin was beginning to turn ivory, and their hair golden blonde again, and they were back to normal by the time they had reached home.

Sophie sat down next to the stunned Lefou, still lying on his back on the floor.

"Gee, Sophie, I didn't know it was Halloween already," he said. He looked up at her, his face turning nearly the color Gigi's had been. "Um… did you just call me your boyfriend?"

"Um- yes, I did… well…what _are_ we, anyway?" Sophie, also very pink-cheeked, decided that she had better find out soon just where this was going. She was twenty-four years old, and had her share of romantic dead-ends amongst the castle staff. But she was certain that the small, black-haired tavern keeper had captured her heart in a way no one had. She didn't want to be burned again.

"I dunno." He was shaking with nervousness, and it wasn't because of the triplets. Sophie leaned down close to his face, nose to nose.

"Maybe… you could let _me_ have a turn to kiss you?"

"Um…okay," he gulped.

Within the next minute, the tavern keeper realized that in all his twenty-five years, he hadn't really lived, or loved, that much on his own until then. The center of his universe shifted- from that of his deceased friend in the portrait, to the very-much-alive, blonde scullery maid.

The walls of his tavern were now mostly bare, (save for the great hero's portrait of course, and oddly, the 'bunchaglomp') which had been what he'd wanted to show Sophie while stopping by the castle. He had sold all of Gaston's trophies to the other men in the village. Sophie had been awed to see the empty walls for the first time, and to think he'd sold them just for her. But later, while they were sitting in Gaston's big old chair, snuggled close and pausing for a minute from cementing their lips together, he admitted he'd made a decent pile of francs.

"How d'you think I could have afforded the Clydesdales?" he chuckled. "Not to mention a couple bags of hops." They laughed, and embraced once more.

"I- I think I love you, Sophie," Lefou stammered.

"I _know_ I love you."

After a few more moments of cuddling on the furry chair, Sophie told him reluctantly that she'd better get back to the castle before six, and they agreed to head out.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, at the castle, Cogsworth answered a knock on the door.<p>

It was the LaBarre wizards. They had come to tell Adam and Belle the news that the evil Enchantress, Delphine, was finally apprehended, and would never bother them, or the villagers in the area, ever again. Adam was so ecstatic that he invited them over for drinks that night with Belle, Cogsworth, Pippa, Maurice, and Mrs. Potts in the smaller dining room.

"_Peau de Arc en Ceil_," said Belle, who couldn't help but laugh gently. "I feel sorry for them, but honestly, I would have loved to have seen that."

"Mistress Belle, you know that is improper for a Princess to say such things about your own subjects, particularly those from your home village." said Cogsworth.

"Just as it is improper for a Prince to hurl innocent little old ladies out of the door, is it not so, Cogsworth?" replied Adam.

"Propriety is subjective, Your Grace." answered Cogsworth. As he said that, his hand touched and squeezed Pippa's underneath the tablecloth. Pippa stiffened her lip to stifle herself from laughing.

* * *

><p><em>A.N.- * Peau de Arc en Ceil- Skin of Rainbow, or Rainbow Skin. Homme-Bête-Man-Beast. I apologize if my French translations are awkward.<em>


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18- Return of Monsieur and Madame Lumiere

The next Sunday morning, which was now the second of May, Adam and Belle were taking an early walk, looking at the birds and savoring the gardens which had bloomed in radiant colors and fragrances. They were also watching the path for a stagecoach, since Lumiere and Babette were expected to return that day.

"Adam, I think I would like to take a trip sometime soon. Do you remember me talking about adventure in the great wide…somewhere? I love this palace life, but it has been one month for us as newlyweds now. Where would you like to go? Perhaps we could visit England?"

Adam shuddered in distaste. "Oh, definitely _not_! As dear as Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts and Pippa are to us, you must remember that England is at war with us just about every other year! Lumiere would be the first to tell you that, his father having been a war veteran. I do not think the people in a place like London would take too kindly to an obscure French prince like me."

Belle sighed. "All right, then, maybe that is not a good idea. I don't think about politics and war that much, you know. I am just a peasant girl at heart, remember. Perhaps the American colonies?"

"Are you _mad_?" Adam scowled. "Do you know how many weeks on a ship that would be? Do you really want to die of scurvy?"

"No. I don't. Forget the trip across the ocean, then. I just feel as if… I am always doing the same things, we always have the same routine, and I am feeling a little…constrained. Maybe bored."

"_Bored_?" Adam was not even trying to conceal his irritation. "I would give you the world, but you are bored. Why don't you just go read your books of fairy tales and live vicariously through them, as you have done? I do not want to go anywhere. No one wants to see me, anyway. The villagers respect me now, but I can't see them trying to relate to me. And traveling to other lands…no! This-" he waved his hand toward the castle- "is the only place I belong, and here I shall stay. If you are bored, go somewhere yourself."

Belle didn't really know how to reply to that. She had only wanted to go on a romantic trip with her husband, but since he was so adamant against it, she considered that maybe she might like the idea of traveling somewhere on her own. As she hung her head, feeling defeated, she heard horses and a large stagecoach approaching from down the valley.

"It's Lumiere and Babette!" Belle exclaimed. The argument could wait.

The stagecoach passed them, and the happy but tired-looking couple waved from the windows. The coach stopped in front of the main castle gate, and they stepped out. Adam and Belle rushed toward them.

"Welcome back! And congratulations!" Belle greeted. Adam gave Lumiere a handshake and a half-hug. Babette embraced Belle, and held out her tiny finger to show a simple, delicate gold band. They walked up the staircase and Adam started to pull the large brass knocker, but the door opened on its own, and Lumiere was accosted by a certain stocky, sparse-haired majordomo who rushed to him and slapped him on the back in sheer delight.

"Welcome home! You do not know how much you both have been missed, and do we have news for you! Forgive me, but I shall let the Master tell you, I'd much rather he recount the tale!" Cogsworth was more gushy and excited than Lumiere had probably ever seen him since the transformation, so he knew that the news must be impressive.

"You proposed to Mademoiselle Davis?" Lumiere asked him point-blank, a mischievous flash in his eyes.

Cogsworth flushed and stuttered. "_W-what_? Oh no-no-no-_no_! Why would you think...?" He looked around the hall, relieved that no one else was around to hear that preposterous and uncouth remark.

"No, Lumiere, I am afraid not, at least not that I know of," said Adam, while Cogsworth looked as if he wished for a trap door to magically form in the floor that he could fall through. "No, the news is that the Enchantress was apprehended and taken away to magic prison by the sorcerer police, the LaBarres. She is no longer a threat. Apparently, she cursed three girls in the village, and they helped the LaBarres in finding her."

"That is wonderful news!" exclaimed Babette. Lumiere agreed, and he laughed heartily. To think that they were finally free of the threat of magical enemies and more curses was definitely a joy and relief after the decade of bizarre existence that they had all endured.

An informal party was held that afternoon and into the evening, with _croquembouche_ and drinks, and Thierry serving some of his famous hams. A group of servants lazily sat around the fireplace and played Pippa's board games. Simple gifts were presented for Lumiere and Babette to open, to much laughter. Maxine, one of the scullery maids, played the grand piano. Bernard Fife, a nervous little man who, after the transformation, had joined a traveling band, had come to visit and play his flute as well. Chip and Mirielle were allowed to run wild and help themselves to all the sweets they wanted.

Chip and Mirielle ran up to Lumiere and Babette at one point that afternoon, excited.

"Did you buy us any gifts?" asked Chip.

"Chip!" scolded Mirielle. "That is rude!" However, she turned an expectant face toward the newlyweds.

Lumiere looked at them sadly. "I am afraid… we did not get a chance to bring you any gifts at all." The youngsters looked a little disappointed, but Lumiere went on.

"There are things about Paris, children… that you would not understand and that would make you sad if you were to see them. I had wished to buy you some gifts, but I…Babette and I found ourselves wanting to give all our extra francs towards other things. Mirielle, there are children there who have nothing. I may as well tell you this, since you are old enough. They live…just like animals. I am sorry, but I gave all the gifts and candy I had purchased for you to some of them. And I gave some other money to an abbey for their orphanage."

Mirielle looked concerned. "Oh, Lumiere, I am so glad you did. I never really thought about that until the other day, when I was reading a book about orphans and the poor in Paris. I feel bad, because my life is so easy." Chip nodded in agreement, although his seven year old heart was a bit disappointed.

Cogsworth and Pippa spent a considerable amount of time playing board games with the larger group, and when they got up, Pippa asked Cogsworth if he would like to take a walk alone with her. He brushed her aside, saying he had too many duties and overseeing to do in the evening, since the servants needed to wash dishes and clean up. Pippa spent the rest of the time seeming quiet and troubled.

Later that evening, Lumiere took Adam and Belle aside and wished to talk to them privately in the West Wing study. He was in a tired and slightly pensive state, very different from his carefree and gregarious self.

"What is it that is concerning you so?" asked Adam.

"I…feel like there is a world out there that is cruel and brutal, and that we- all of us- are protected from it, living here. That makes me grateful, but whenever I go back to Paris, I see it again. The poverty. The despair. I have forgotten about it in all these ten years, but was reminded of it when we were on our trip. Now don't get me wrong, Adam and Belle- it was romantic and beautiful. We saw the great buildings, the Cathedral of Notre Dame, went to cafes and boutiques, we visited my father of course, and we spent much of our days and nights alone in the inn," he blushed and smiled a little- "but when we went out, I saw the people living in horrible conditions. And the wealthy and powerful we saw there- they are such a different sort of people than what I am used to- they care only of themselves, with no compassion at all! I think you ought never go to Paris, Your Grace."

"And I shall never," replied Adam. "My uncles, the princes Maximillien and Valentin, have never wished to reconnect with me after my parents died. They are ambitious men, from what I gather, and they want to get in good with the Bourbons. That is fine with me. Belle and I, and our children yet to be born, will stay secluded here in the East. No one there really knows about us anymore, this place is crumbled to ruin in their minds. We are forgotten and erased from both Paris and Versailles society." He grinned. "And that makes me proud."

Belle spoke up. "I would like to someday go to Paris alone, or with you again, Lumiere. I would like to continue to send charity to the orphanages that you spoke of. Since I am a commoner by birth, I will not be known, and I will go only as 'Belle DeFleur.' I want to see the abbey orphanages and charity houses."

"Belle- be reasonable," Adam tried to argue.

"But I think it is a good idea!" insisted Belle. "I wish to go, Adam, preferably this summer, or fall. If I don't do my part to help, if I stay secluded for life in this idyllic palace, then we are no better than those selfish nobles that Lumiere saw. I need to _do_ more, and be more in life. We will have children to raise eventually, and I won't be able to do it then. It would be an adventure."

"All right, dear. Sometime this year, you can visit Paris. As long as Lumiere accompanies you."

"Thank you, Adam." She embraced and kissed her husband, who returned her kiss with fervor and picked her up off the floor, her feet flying up. "I love when you talk of the children we will have!" he teased.

"I'd rather the Lumieres have _their_ children before we have ours!" Belle said boldly, looking at Lumiere, who shook his head and waved his hands wildly in the air.

"Oh- _ho!_ I do not even _wish_ to go there!" he answered.

Lumiere left the West Wing study at that, and raced down to find Babette sitting with Mrs. Potts and Maurice. Their own small wedding ceremony was to be held the very next Saturday. Lumiere had tea with them for a short while, and then he and Babette slipped upstairs to the servants' suites.

"Your room, _cherie, _or mine?" he asked her as they reached the stairs landing, grabbing her in a tight embrace, quite roughly, with strength that belied his slight frame.

"Let's take turns." She beamed up at him with hazel eyes blazing, and kissed him full on the lips.

* * *

><p>Pippa Davis had retired early to her bedroom, after the dinner party had continued on into desserts and more social banter. She locked her door and got out her pencil and a sketchbook, doodling little pictures of flowers, trees and birds.<p>

She was feeling ashamed of herself, and she chided herself under her breath. _Foolish, coquettish little schoolgirl! _That is what she had become. She had come to France about a month ago to take on a situation, and that was to be just that, a relatively easy position as a nanny to a nearly twelve-year old and a seven-year-old. She had always thought of herself as a shy, modest and slightly prudish woman, and had never had much time for boys in her youth, as she had been forced to find situations at an early age. Yet that all changed the night she became acquainted with a certain George A. Cogsworth.

The man had charmed her from day one, and she lost it. She completely lost all sense of modesty and restraint, such as the time she foolishly and forwardly complimented him about his shaving cream during what was supposed to be a children's art lesson. Yet it had resulted in George asking her to dinner alone, which had been pleasant enough, although much more of the same, with him rattling off the same kinds of witty banter and jokes, as well as the same light flirtations.

She would always laugh- she couldn't help it, because the man made her feel so light and bubbly inside- but she was honestly getting tired of it all. She was tired of the flirtations, the little looks, the secrecy, while at the same time he would put on a façade of propriety and rules to the rest of the staff, barely acknowledging that anything was going on between them.

To put it quite mildly, Pippa felt used.

She snapped her art book closed and gazed out her window in deep thought. She felt that it had to go either one of two ways. Either George would formally and _seriously _come out in the open and confess _exactly_ what types of feelings he had for her, or… she would go back to England at the end of the summer if he continued in that middling zone of flirtations and nonsense. She resigned herself to stop her own coquettish behavior in order to feel him out and test his reactions. She had to regain her control. Luckily, Lumiere was back, and being George's best friend, he noticed such things as clear as day. _He'd_ be on her side.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19- The Potts-DeFleur Nuptials

The Saturday that was slated for a priest to arrive around noon and perform a simple wedding ceremony for Maurice and Mrs. Potts arrived. The happy widower couple was full of flirtatious playfulness at the breakfast table, acting more passionate than people of sixty years usually did in public. At least Maurice did; Mrs. Potts was trying hard to keep her English propriety in check, but was losing the battle. She playfully fed him a croissant, much to the embarrassment of her niece.

Pippa and the children finished breakfast _sans_ Cogsworth, who was overseeing the work in the kitchen. The cook, Thierry, had much to do in preparing yet another special dinner that day. Pippa, in an uncharacteristically cross mood, snapped at the two youngsters.

"Your manners at table have been dreadful this morning, Chip. And Mirielle, I suggest that you help clear the dining tables, they seem much too busy in the kitchen! Thierry is overburdened in making a special dish for the wedding dinner today!" she said in a shrill voice.

"Okay, Mademoiselle Davis, I will help." Mirielle, with a hurt look that seemed to suggest that the nanny typically never used such a cross tone with her, obediently went to the tables and cleared the dishes. Chip offered to help her, going into the kitchen to find a damp cloth to wipe tables with. While the kitchen door was open, Cogsworth could be heard snapping orders to the maids to get the breakfast chores done and get the foods ready for the dinner to be started later.

"Sophie, what are you doing taking those overripe cobs of corn out of the rubbish? They are only going to rot!" Cogsworth sounded flustered.

"They aren't for the dinner! Did you know, Cogsworth, that when you distill corn in a barrel, it makes a stronger liquor? It's the wave of the _future_! I'm bringing these to the tavern this week; Ignatius said he's going to try out a stronger formula, the men are starting to complain, it seems-"

"_What_? You want to help inebriate the villagers? I don't think so! Throw that corn back, Sophie! ...Mirielle! Put those dishes in _carefully_! You almost broke a teacup!"

"Yeah, Mirielle! Remember _this_?" Chip piped up, and everyone in the dining room knew that Chip was probably pointing to his chipped front tooth, which was an after-effect of the small break he'd formerly suffered in his cup-form long ago, when he'd been bounced off Sophie's chair-form.

"Sorry about that," replied Sophie, only a little guiltily. "But it is only a baby tooth, and you will lose that soon."

"Chip, I _doubt_ these cups will someday have teeth," chided Mirielle.

Cogsworth strode out of the kitchen and past the dining hall, not giving a notice to Mrs. Potts, Maurice, and Pippa sitting at the table that he walked briskly by.

"Where are you off to, George?" asked Mrs. Potts.

"Upstairs to find Lumiere and Babette! They are supposed to be tidying up the great hall!"

"I'm right here, Cogsworth, and the great hall is already tidy!" Babette appeared in the doorway in front of him.

"Very well, then. Where is your husband?"

Babette looked sheepish. "I think he… still might be sleeping."

Cogworth's face went red, and he hustled out, heading upstairs to fetch his indolent friend.

"Well, _cherie_," said Maurice to his bride, "I must go tend to Bernadette and then change to my suit. Emmeline, have you decided what you are wearing? I hope it's the blue dress."

"And the blue dress it shall be," replied Mrs. Potts lovingly. When he left, she was alone with Pippa. She began to address her in English, and Pippa knew that when she lapsed into English, it was because she wanted to speak to her on a private matter.

"You seem a little on edge, dear. I hope something is not wrong. Is George being a bit of an exasperation?" Mrs. Potts asked, refilling Pippa's teacup.

"No, no! He's not exasperating at all; he's a delightful man, Aunt Emmie! Just delightful!" Pippa's cheeks flushed red so that the freckles that went with her gingerish hair were not as noticeable. She fumbled with the sugar bowl and dumped a little too much in.

Mrs. Potts gave Pippa her most classic 'Aunt Emmie look', which was the look Pippa remembered since childhood, when she would do things like devour all of the biscuits from the cupboard, and Aunt Emmie would see the crumbs upon her pinafore.

"Delightful, you say? How so?"

"Oh, I don't know- um…he's good with the children!"

"And charming, yes?"

Pippa had started to take a sip of hot tea, and the cup shook in her hand, dribbling tea on her apron. She snatched a napkin. "Sometimes. On occasion…I think."

"Do you love him?"

"_What_?" Pippa whispered indignantly, even though they were still conversing in English, and the small groups of French-speaking staff were at least ten feet away. "Aunt Emmie, you really have a way with being too frank with people, I honestly feel it is a private matter-"

"You are my niece, Phillipa, and your happiness is my responsibility. After all, it was my idea to ask you to take the situation here in France, so far from home. I need an honest answer. Do you…fancy George?"

"Yes," she whispered. "And… it seems as if he is returning the feelings but…he doesn't acknowledge it directly, he plays these silly head games and underhanded gestures, and doesn't even…"

"But you have been behaving toward him the same way."

Pippa was mortified. If anyone else in the castle had noticed her own coquettishness in the last several weeks, it would certainly be Aunt Emmie.

"But he's the man and I am the lady! I was taught that the man was to be in charge of courtship. I just try to show attention, but he doesn't make the correct advances."

"Cogsworth is not as self-confident as he makes out to be." said Mrs. Potts. "You know that I have known him and been his friend for a long time. He was the one who originally offered for Nicholas and me to take the position for Prince Adam's parents, years ago. And I have never seen him act the way towards any other lady servant than the way he's been acting towards you. Like a lovesick fool, I must say."

"Really?" Pippa breathed. In the back of her mind, she wondered if George had ever done the same thing with anyone else, if she was only one of many, but her aunt had just affirmed her that that was not the case. And she could certainly trust her word.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, at around noon, a priest from Metz, one of the larger cities in the whole Lorraine region, arrived to perform the wedding ceremony. The staff of seventy-two, as well as Prince Adam and Princess Belle, sat in rows of chairs, a much smaller and cozier gathering than the grand royal wedding over a month before. Large bouquets of fragrant May blossoms from the gardens were arranged around the great hall, the work of Babette, Mirielle, and a handful of other maids.<p>

Emmeline Potts and Maurice DeFleur walked behind Belle and Adam up the middle aisle, Emmeline dressed in her best dark blue velvet dress and Maurice in his black suit. They were followed by Mirielle, in her light blue frock, holding a bouquet, and Chip, in a crisp navy sailor's dress suit with a matching little tricorn hat, carrying a little pillow with two rings nestled on it.

A brief ceremony commenced. The priest spoke in Latin, and then had Mrs. Potts- that is, soon-to-be Mrs. Potts-DeFleur- speak her vows, and Maurice spoke his as well. They took the rings from Chip's pillow, and the priest pronounced them wed, as Monsieur and Madame Maurice and Emmeline Potts-DeFleur.

They embraced and kissed, and the crowd broke out in cheers. Lumiere whistled in the front row, and even Cogsworth, seated between Lumiere and Prince Adam, called out, "More ardor in it now, Maurice!"

The priest, Pere Laurent, spoke up after the cheering died down. "That was one of the briefest and most simple weddings I have ever done, especially in a palace such as this."

The old clergyman looked over the crowd. "I have traveled quite far, and looking at this fine group of people in the household of His Majesty Prince Adam and Her Majesty Princess Belle, I must wonder if there are others among you who would need me to marry any of you. I have time." Pere Laurent often did this in his travels, and even though he would say it jokingly, there were, about half the time, a few takers to his offer. It had become his custom.

The crowd chuckled for a moment, and as the light laughter died down, a loud voice shouted from the right front row.

"Why, yes we do, _mon pere_! I happen to know a couple of people here who ought to marry this very day!"

With this declaration, Lumiere stood up and waved his hands to get the group's attention. He put his hand on Cogsworth's shoulder.

"My friend here would like to marry Mademoiselle Davis!" He gestured to a shocked Pippa, sitting on the other side of the front row, between Belle and Madame la Grande Bouche. Her mouth gaped, and she clapped her hand over it.

Cogsworth fumed at Lumiere. "_What are you doing_? You are making a scene and a mockery at Emmeline and Maurice's wedding! This is _not_ a place and time for jokes! I never thought you could be that rude, Lumiere!"

Pippa sat still and wanted to shrink in her chair. She managed to squeak a response to the argument. "Are you both making fun of me?" Her blue eyes were starting to form tears.

"I am not making fun of you, Mademoiselle Davis! I am in earnest! I just know that he loves you!" shouted Lumiere. He made a sweeping gesture to Cogsworth, and part of him missed the candle smoke that used to emanate from his hand when he had made such movements before. It was the reason he had taken up the habit of pipe-smoking.

Maurice and Emmeline Potts-DeFleur remained standing at the altar. They felt no such embarrassment, or feeling that their wedding had been make a mockery of at all. They were too mature to worry about such things, and they were beyond happy. However, Mrs. Potts-DeFleur began to look concerned for both her niece and her friend. She didn't expect Lumiere to make such a bold statement on their behalf right in the midst of the ceremony! Of course, Lumiere had always tended to act on impulse, despite the fact that the young man had a heart of gold for all his friends.

Cogsworth sat still in his chair, his face red as a lobster. He tried to get his best friend to sit down again, tugging at his frock coat.

"Lumiere, this is utterly silly and ridiculous of you to…" he began in a loud whisper.

"_George! Be quiet and listen to what Lumiere has to say! If this concerns me, I would really like to know!" _

Pippa had fought back the tears and now was fuming in anger. She had half-wished for Lumiere to somehow talk with him, but she was beyond uncomfortable and awkward having the situation dragged out in public for the whole castle staff to see. But then, she should have known that Lumiere liked to do things on a grand scale. Pippa was in a bit of culture-shock, since she wasn't exactly in London anymore. No, it wasn't Lumiere. Her anger was for the man who was- again- trying to tell his friend he was being ridiculous and so concerned about propriety.

Mrs. Potts-DeFleur assessed the situation, and realized that she had to say something fast. Stretching her plump five-foot-two frame to as much height as she could, she gave Cogsworth a staredown and lapsed, again, into her native English, to spare him and Pippa further embarrassment.

"Cogsworth! Can you please stop arguing, and just admit that you really love my niece? Stop acting like a bloomin' lummox!"

"But Emmeline," Cogsworth replied, also in English, "it is your wedding today after all, and don't you think-"

"I don't care! We are happy. Don't make excuses."

Lumiere piped up from his other side. "Just..._tell her_!"

Cogsworth slowly rose from his chair and looked solemnly over at Pippa. Fumbling with the white ruffled collar on his suit, he walked over to her and stood before her, taking her hand.

"I really do love you…_J'aime toi_."

At this, the entire crowd burst into cheers and applause. Belle and Adam looked over at each other in delight, and the newly wed DeFleurs beamed, Emmeline getting teary-eyed. Chip and Mirielle jumped up and down like two rubber balls.

Pippa Davis stood up and embraced George Cogsworth, who took her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, as the applause continued.

Pere Laurent had been quietly watching this scene play itself out with cool assurance. He had seen such things before in all his years. He finally cleared his throat and spoke.

"Who would like to see a double wedding today?"

With the exception of Cogsworth and Pippa, still embracing, every hand in the great hall went up.

Pippa was whispering something in Cogsworth's ear. He finally disentangled himself from her arms and addressed the crowd.

"Excuse me, but we…we would still like to discuss the matter privately. Could you give us…just a few minutes?" Pippa nodded in agreement.

"My pleasure," replied Pere Laurent.

"We are going into the library to have a talk. Do carry on with the celebrations. Congratulations again, Madame and Monsieur," Cogsworth gestured to the DeFleurs. At this, he put his arm around Pippa's shoulder and they hastily retreated out of the great hall and into the library.

An awkward silence ensued for about a minute, until Mrs. Potts-DeFleur made a suggestion.

"Lumiere, dear, perhaps you would like to conclude our wedding with a little song."

A slightly nervous but joyful Lumiere stood up and walked to the altar near the priest. "Maxine, would you be so kind as to accompany me? Let's do…a piece from _Jeu de Robin et Marion_, by de la Halle." The crowd murmured in agreement, the de la Halle songs were among the castle favorites.

Maxine, one of the eldest scullery maids, rose and took a seat at the grand piano in the corner. She played a rousing tune, and Lumiere's baritone voice filled the great hall.

Ten minutes later, as Lumiere was finishing the last notes of his third song, Cogsworth and Pippa came back into the great hall, hand in hand and smiling. They went to the front and stood next to Lumiere, just as he had sung the last note. Adam, Belle, and the entire staff clapped briefly, then fell silent.

Cogsworth cleared his throat. "I am terribly sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but as much as you would all love to see a double wedding today, Mademoiselle Davis and I feel like we would prefer to wait a while. She and I would much rather have a courting period, it is something she had always envisioned. I hope you understand. Perhaps in three or more months."

Pippa nodded along with him. "We thought it would be a little more..."

"_Proper._" Cogsworth and Pippa both said in unison, and grinned at each other.

Pere Laurent, as well as Lumiere, looked a little disappointed, but both nodded. Applause filled the hall once again.

Lumiere stepped down and approached Cogsworth, clapping him on the back. "Oh, what's three more months? At least you'll have time to get rid of all the nude Baroque paintings you have hanging up in your room!"

At that, Cogsworth and Pippa both blushed and chuckled. "Well, George, if you fancy those...Baroque paintings, that means I can eat all the cake I want!" laughed Pippa.

"Do you forgive me for my rudeness?" Lumiere wanted to know.

"We do now," replied Pippa, as she smiled at Cogsworth.

Adam and Belle, who had been sitting quietly for most of this time, stood and gestured to everyone.

"Why don't we all convene in the dining hall? There are cakes and tea, I believe, and dinner will be served in a few more hours!" announced Prince Adam.

And for the third time in two months, a wedding feast was held in the castle, with yet another holiday atmosphere.

* * *

><p><em>A.N.- Adam de la Halle was a French poet and composer in medieval times, who wrote a musical called 'Jeu de Robin et Marion,' that was popular for centuries. -civilwarrose<em>


	20. Chapter 20 and Epilogue

Chapter 20- Resignations, the Village, and Epilogue

It was now mid-summer in the mountains and valleys of the Lorraine region, and turning out to be a lovely and mild one. It had been two months since the DeFleurs' wedding, and in the next month- although Cogsworth and Pippa had not set an exact date yet- another small ceremony was expected at the castle.

Adam and Belle sat in the study in the west wing one day around noon. It was one of the more private rooms they liked to go into during the day; being on the fourth floor and far removed from the busy great hall, kitchen and servants' quarters. After a session of intimate cuddling on the plush couch, the couple had gone to Adam's desk. Adam showed Belle a pile of letters he had just received. He had some personnel issues to share with her.

"Belle, darling, you were exactly right about those four men who have been at the guard posts," he told her. "I have their resignation letters here. Apparently, they have been visiting the village and have gotten to know some farmers. Sure enough, they want to try their hand at farming, working for some gentlemen there with the hope of purchasing their own land."

Belle smiled as she ran her hand through the messed-up chignon in her hair, finally taking it out and shaking her long hair free. "That is wonderful! I am happy for them. They are good men. Do you think we will need to assign new men to guard the castle?"

"I can't imagine it at the moment," said Adam. "After all, the only dangers have been of the magical sort, and for now, that is over. Although I do suppose I ought to find replacements. Here is another letter, from the village," he went on, grabbing another letter from the stack, and squinting his eyes to try to decipher the handwriting of the village brewer. "This," he laughed, "sounds rather like bribery. 'Free supply of ale for one year to His Majesty, in return for the hand of Mademoiselle Ouilette in marriage.'"

Belle laughed. "So does he get your blessing?"

"But of course," he replied, signing it with his quill. "Although I'd rather forego the free ale, half price is fine. I'll miss her, although I am sure she'll be driving that wagon over here every week. Here, you can let Sophie have this letter, she should be thrilled."

"I'm certain," replied Belle, chuckling. "Adam, another thing. I was talking to Lumiere yesterday, and we are thinking of September as a good time to take a trip to Paris. We were thinking of less than a week, just a few days."

"Just a few days? I do think I can handle that." He beamed at his wife. She looked especially lovely today, with her hair down, and a little wavy from the summer humidity. "Let's go down to the dining room, I believe some baked _poisson_ is calling my name."

Later that afternoon, a small group piled into two separate carriages, to take a leisurely ride down the valley and through the woods, with the intent of visiting the village as well. Lumiere, Babette, Cogsworth, Pippa, Monsieur and Madame DeFleur, and Sophie all wished to get outside the castle together on such a pleasant summer day. They had never gone out together as a group, so they thought they should take the opportunity.

Lumiere drove one carriage, pulled by the horse named Florian, with Babette beside him, and Cogsworth and Pippa in the back seats. It was a little cramped with four people, but none of them minded. They could hear the stream rushing and saw wildflowers blooming as they headed down the valley. The forest path was pleasantly shady, and they all tried to spot woodland creatures. Pippa was the first, seeing a grey squirrel scampering up a tree. Cogsworth put his arm around her as the four of them chatted about their upcoming wedding.

"I just want to get the whole thing over with," said Cogsworth. "Nothing fancy, we want it just as fuss-free as Maurice and Emmeline's had been."

"Of course you want to get it over with, Cogsworth, _mon ami_, you are a man! And behave yourselves back there!" Lumiere said, craning his neck backwards.

"Just watch the road." Cogsworth replied. They were lagging far behind the first carriage, driven by Sophie, who was accustomed to hustling Antoinette along the same route at least two or more times a week, with a supply wagon rather than a pleasure carriage. Maurice and Emmeline rode in the back, anxious to take a leisurely tea at the café in Molyneux.

Very soon, they reached the village. As they drove through the main street, they were greeted by friendly 'Bonjours'. The people along the route especially called out to Maurice and his new wife; they were now pleasant and respectful to him since he had gone on to become part of the prince's court and inner circle, being the father in law of the prince himself. The men had heard of his talent in building whatever needed to be built, and so practical jobs tended to keep coming Maurice's way; more requests than he really wanted, being the age he was.

He was also trying to sell the old cottage that he and Belle used to live in. It had been empty since early March, of course, four months, and luckily some villagers had been willing to keep it up for him. He hadn't found a buyer for the price he wanted, and so he was going to talk to someone about lowering the price. Maurice and Belle planned on using the money they would earn from the sale of the Molyneux cottage to benefit the charities in Paris.

The castle staff members parked their carriages near the café, where the DeFleurs immediately went in to take tea. Sophie, with Lefou's letter in hand -signed and approved by Prince Adam- raced ecstatically to the tavern. Cogsworth and Pippa followed the DeFleurs into the café and sat down together, while Lumiere and Babette went to shop in the little stores nearby.

The group in the café was surprised to see some fellow castle staff in a corner table, wolfing down large slices of quiche. Noel and Luc Saggitaire, as well as their colleagues Jean and Yann, were there with Mimi Beaudette, who sat very closely pressed to Luc. Her sisters happened to be working, waiting tables, but they tended to linger near the young men, flirting and giggling. Apparently Luc was bragging about a large buck deer that he had shot a while back. After a fit of giggles, Fifi and Gigi came to the table that Maurice, Cogsworth, and their ladies were sitting in and took their orders.

"Cogsworth, you have to try either the quiche or the omelettes, they are the best around," said Maurice. "They say here that the egg dishes put hair and muscles on a man's chest!" Maurice teased him, while Emmeline and Pippa asked for croissants. Hearing Maurice's comment, Gigi, who had been in a cheerful mood, suddenly looked sad. She locked eyes with Fifi, who looked the same, and for a split second, they glanced over at Mimi, who was making dreamy eyes at Luc. They both had the same thought in their minds regarding their sister- she had moved on, and perhaps they ought to do the same.

The blonde waitresses composed themselves and pasted on smiles as much as they could. "Two omelettes and two croissants, and a pot of tea, coming right up!" chirped Gigi.

Cogsworth and Pippa clasped hands tightly, beaming at each other as always. They could not go for one second without touching each other, Mrs. Potts-DeFleur thought, amused. She felt on top of the world, and praised the day that she invited her niece to come to France. She had never meant to be a matchmaker, but deep in her heart, she'd kind of known all along.

After tea, the four rejoined Lumiere and Babette, who had returned from a shop. They had both purchased new hats for themselves.

"What do you think?" Babette asked Mrs. Potts-DeFleur, showing off her new wide brimmed, beribboned bonnet. It was lovely, the curved brim showing off her fine-featured face and big hazel eyes.

"Magnifique!" replied both DeFleurs. The six of them strolled down the street, enjoying the quaint atmosphere of Molyneux in the summertime- the earthy smell of horses, the chatter of women and children walking by. Soon, Luc and Noel, accompanied by Mimi, approached the group.

"Listen to this, monsieurs!" Noel addressed the men excitedly. "Drinks are on the house at the tavern! From now until nine! I have no idea why, Lefou must be crazy!"

"He's not crazy!" scolded Mimi, defending her friend. The rumor of Lefou's sanity, or lack of it, started by his own ill-tempered sister, was a sore spot with Lefou and all those close to him. "I know why he's offering free drinks-" Mimi laughed- "the little fool must have just gotten engaged to be married!"

"Well, _ma cherie_, do you ladies mind at all if we get a few drinks?" asked Lumiere, glancing at all three women in a pleading way. He craved a social drink every once in a while.

"No," replied Babette. "We will just go back to the shops and allow Pippa and Emmeline to pick out new hats for themselves as well! Oh, Sophie, you are back! Just in time, we are going to shop some more!"

Sophie had rushed back from down the street. It was now nearing five in the afternoon, and that was the time the tavern opened for the men to congregate. It wasn't proper for a lady to be inside the tavern during evening customer hours. She approached Mrs. Potts-DeFleur, hugging her. Her eyes were bright with happiness. "First Sunday in September!" she exclaimed. "We are getting married then!"

"Congratulations, dear!" Emmeline gushed. "But why not sooner?" she had to ask. "Not that we won't miss you, of course."

"Harvest season," explained Sophie. "During harvest season, the men here will be so busy that Ignatius can close the tavern for a whole week! We are taking a trip up to Metz, for a real honeymoon!"

"What is so exciting about Metz?" asked Babette. "Wouldn't Paris be more glamorous?" Babette was much more of a big-city girl than the other castle maids tended to be. She had gushed about her own honeymoon for weeks, and wished they could all go someday as well.

"It would," replied Sophie, "but it's just too far of a trip. Metz is the brewing capital of this region. So of course, he has to visit the wineries and breweries, learn the tricks of the trade. He wants to learn how to make _eau-de-vie_, the fruit brandy. Now doesn't that sound like a fine product..." Her babbling about beverages was interrupted by Babette.

"How about I take all of you ladies back to the milliner's and you can buy a new hat?" she suggested. "And to the fabric shop! And the tailor- to start on your dresses, you know!"

Pippa and Sophie smiled at the thought, although neither had considered the idea of new dresses for their weddings. They had planned to wear their best velvet dresses, the ones they had worn at Belle and Adam's wedding. Babette convinced the two future brides that the velvet would be much too hot for August and September.

"How sweltering and horrible! Think about it! You need satin, or silk. And white, at that." she insisted, as the four women headed to the shops.

Cogsworth, Lumiere and Maurice entered the tavern, which was filling fast after Luc and Noel had spread the news about the free drinks. Grabbing mugs of ale from Noel, who was helping the overworked Lefou serve for the evening, they took a seat in a corner table, a little quieter and more removed from the noisy din of the hard-drinking Molyneux regulars.

"Now Cogsworth, don't talk too much, we don't want too many of these fellows to hear your English accent," warned Lumiere. "There might be some war veterans here, and not all these men take kindly to Englishmen."

Cogsworth rolled his eyes, and stayed silent. Lumiere and Maurice chatted a while as they drank, mostly about the women in their lives, while gently teasing Cogsworth, who just swirled his drink quietly, definitely out of his element in the provincial tavern.

"Maurice, my old friend!" Gilles, a farmer, clapped Maurice on the back. "So how are you, crazy old man? I hope you wouldn't mind building me a new stable and milking station for my cows? I'll pay you handsomely!"

"Thank you for the thought, but I am afraid I have too much work already." Maurice answered. The smallish, dark haired man looked a little disappointed as he walked back to the bar. Maurice was wise to turn down the offer, as Gilles, one of Lefou's cousins, was a notorious debtor, often going to the stocks for not paying his bills.

"Good decision, Maurice," said Lumiere, getting his pipe out and stuffing it with some new tobacco he'd just purchased from the general store. "Do either of you have a match?"

Cogsworth shook his head silently, drinking from his mug, then looked up and nodded in greeting at someone who'd rushed to their table. Lefou had managed to get away from the bar and was approaching Lumiere, holding a box of matches.

"Need a light, _mon ami_?" he asked Lumiere. Even though his hero was dead, Lefou still needed to express his servant's nature, and was always scanning customers to see if they needed a refill, or a match to light their pipe, and rushing to assist them.

"Why yes, thank you!" replied Lumiere. Lefou lit a match and held it towards Lumiere and his pipe, bringing it closer as he grinned at him in a jovial manner.

Lumiere's eyes suddenly popped out in terror, his face going pale as wax. He leaned away in an almost cowering manner at the friendly bartender.

"Are you all right?" both Lefou and Maurice said in unison. Cogsworth just gave Lumiere an odd look.

"I – I don't need a light, thank you very much," stammered Lumiere, as Lefou shrugged and hustled back to the bar to give more refills. Lumiere lowered his voice and stared hard at his English friend. "Cogsworth, do you remember when you… saved my life?"

Cogsworth furrowed his brow for a moment, then his mind regurgitated a bizarre, surreal memory and he nodded.

"I think that… no, that _couldn't_ have been him!" Lumiere decided, shaking his head. "That fellow with the gap-toothed grin who'd tried to-" his voice went to a whisper- "melt me… was _much _bigger! I must stop drinking, _mon amis_, perhaps we should find the ladies and head back."

The three men agreed, and they guzzled down the rest of their ale mugs, waved farewell towards the bar area, and exited into the early evening street.

Cogsworth was finally free to speak. "Lumiere, you must remember that you are now about twenty times bigger than you were that night. I have a feeling that Sophie's fiancé was probably your assailant."

Lumiere looked shocked. Cogsworth quipped, "If that was the case, then I am so grateful I used the scissors and not the pistol, thank heavens!"

They quieted when they spotted the ladies across the street. Talking about the days of the enchantment was something they knew they ought not to do around the village, as they all had secrets to keep. Cogsworth and Adam had to explain to Pippa about the whole situation on the night that the sorcerers had visited to bring news of the Enchantress' capture. She was unable to believe such a thing; unlike everyone else in the palace, she had never been exposed to magic. She had been shocked, but luckily, Fabien, Bastien and Benoit were sitting right there with them that night- and they had dazzled her with a few little spells before her eyes.

After that, Pippa was a little more convinced, and yet, she never ceased to pester Cogsworth with questions. "You were a _clock_?" she'd say in astonishment. "What kind of clock?" "Did you ever get broken?" And of course, after a while it became the subject of scores of teasing jokes on her part. She would take to tweaking his nose and telling him that she was setting him back so they could live the next hour over again. He'd get flustered, but of course he loved it, coming from her.

On that thought, Cogsworth was delighted to see his lady love approach him when they crossed the street. She was wearing a new bonnet, with a green ribbon that set off her reddish hair.

"You look lovely, dear," he told her, clasping her hand. Lumiere and Babette did the same, walking back toward the carriages hand in hand, as did the DeFleurs. Sophie, wearing a cute blue bonnet, looked wistful as she wanted to peek into the tavern. On a second thought, she rushed back to the tavern door, and yelled in, "_Bonne_ _nuit_, darling!" Lefou popped out of the doorway, exclaiming, "I miss you already, Sophie! Good night, _cherie_!" He embraced her and kissed her good night, while a roar of whistles and drunken catcalls swelled from inside the tavern. After they parted, Sophie rejoined the group.

She, also, had been reflecting upon her own years of the enchantment, wondering how she was going to keep _that _secret the rest of her life. Even Lefou had asked her repeatedly if the Beast had 'locked her into a dungeon or something,' and she always had given him a vague answer, such as they were 'all treated fine, nothing to worry about.' She had almost let something slip; she had joked once about how ugly Gaston's old chair was, and that she was glad _she_ hadn't been that hideous when she was a… well, she'd let that sentence go unfinished, and luckily unnoticed.

The small group of Prince Adam's and Princess Belle's staff and court members embarked again in their carriages, and sped off into the pleasant summer evening, laughing and swapping memories. All of them shared the expectations of new lives and new loves, and all looked forward to a bright future.

As the carriages approached the grand castle, Adam and Belle were strolling down the path, hand in hand. They had been reflecting upon the last year, and were amazed at what had developed, the extraordinary circumstances, and how their lives were turned upside down in the course of less than a year's time.

"Much less than a year's time to be exact," said Belle to Adam. "It's been barely nine months now since I set foot in this castle and met you. And now, look at us all." She gazed up at his blue eyes, the same eyes which revealed his true soul and his humanity when he'd been trapped in his monstrous form. Every once in a while, she had to admit that she missed the big Beast he used to be. Not that she'd want him to ever change back, but there was something curiously nostalgic about that last autumn and winter. It had been a special time, but no matter what, she adored her husband no matter what form he took. He was her Adam.

"Yes, indeed, dearest Belle," he replied. He put his head down and pulled her face to his in a fierce and lingering kiss. She locked her arms around his neck, her feet leaving the ground. Their lives had been turned upside down, topsy-turvy, and every which way, and if someone had told Belle her destiny a year before, she would have deemed them crazy.

Looking back, they could say that they had the cunning and wicked Enchantress to thank for that. She had initiated nothing more than a guilt-inducing trick on the vain and spoiled young prince, but it had evolved into a lesson in redemption for Adam and his learning to love.

For Belle, it had been an adventure and a love beyond her wildest imagination. She had grown from girl to woman, and her new husband had gone from an angry Beast to a loving and benevolent prince of the region. His subjects were fond of him, his life was private and peaceful, and he cherished his household staff as his extended family. Prince Adam had truly created a new order. His example may not have been followed by other nobles, but it allowed him to be truly blessed with life, joy, family, and love.

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

George A. Cogsworth and Pippa Davis married in early August, in a simple ceremony at the castle. They enjoyed a happy life as majordomo of the palace and nanny to the two youngsters, Mirielle and Chip. The four of them were inseparable. A new youngster was added to the mix, when their baby daughter, Felicity, was born.

Francois and Babette Lumiere were a very active and compassionate couple in their efforts to improve the lot of the Prince's subjects. Francois often led palace choir rehearsals and put on fine choral concerts for charity, and his singing and directing talent was well in demand for weddings, holidays, and other celebrations. That fall, he accompanied Belle to Paris, where, with the money Maurice earned from selling his old cottage, they contributed hundreds of francs to the orphanages and shelters to aid the destitute and orphans. Eventually, the Lumieres were blessed with a daughter, Chandelle.

Maurice and Emmeline Potts-DeFleur enjoyed a carefree and peaceful retirement in the palace, eventually welcoming Maurice's grandchildren after a few years of anxious waiting.

Sophie Ouilette married Ignatius Lefou in the village church that fall, and was warmly welcomed as a resident of Molyneux. She easily stepped into the role of tavernkeeper's wife, although she wouldn't allow anyone to refer to her as a barmaid. However, her role in the business was soon curtailed when little Henri-Gaston was born, followed by three more children, Sylvie, Aimee, and Jean-Ignace. Incidentally, Henri-Gaston grew up to stand six-foot-two.

Mimi Beaudette married Luc Saggitaire, and Fifi Beaudette married Noel Saggitaire in a double wedding the next year. Gigi Beaudette, however, remained single for some time. For years she was unable to find any other man who could measure up to Gaston, the passion of her foolish and errant youth. In Gigi's heart, she was his and his alone. She once considered entering a convent, to swear off men forever, but finally, when she was twenty-nine, a successful vineyard farmer named Jean, a former palace guard, won her affections and hand in marriage.

And Prince Adam and Princess Belle, as stated before, lived peacefully and happily, and a new little Prince and little Princess would come to be born to them, as well.

_-Finis-_


End file.
